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•^y “^ * • ' ’ * * ^° ^ 







THE PAROWAN BONANZA 


JS. /Db. JBOWCC 

Gk)OD Indian 

Lonesome Land 

The Ranch at the Wolverine 

The Flying U’s Last Stand 

The Heritage of the Sioux 

Starr, of the Desert 

Cabin Fever 

Skyrider 

Rim o’ The World 
The Quirt 
•Cow-Country 
Casey Ryan 

The Trail of the White Mule 
The Voice at Johnnywater 
The Parowan Bonanza 






He packed an emergency camp outfit on Wise One, and 
set out quite happily, walking beside Doris. 
FRONTISPIECE. See page 103. 









/ 

THE 

PAROWAN BONANZA 



BY 

B. M. BOWER 


( 


"c. 








WITH FRONTISPIECE BY 

FRANK TENNEY JOHNSON 


INON-REF^RTl 

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2 



SwVAD • 03^ 






BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 

1923 


















Copyright, 192S, 

By Little, Brown, and Company. 


All rights reserved 
Published August, 1923 


Printed in the United States of America 


HUC 20 *23 ^ A 

©C1A711571'-^^ 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I Hopeful Bill Dale. 3 

II Music Hath Charms.16 

III Luella Announces.29 

ly Good, Lively Prospect.41 

V Strangers in Camp.50 

VI Bill Grows Sentimental.65 

VII What Drives Prospectors Crazy .... 74 

VIII Monte Cristo Would Enjoy This ! ” . . 86 

IX A Hint ” from Doris.96 

X “ We^re Rich, Bill, Dear ”.108 

XI Mr. Rayfield Gives Advice.119 

XII A Man Shouldn’t Mix Business with Love . 130 

XIII Bill Learns About Women from ’er . . . 146 

XIV Baker Cole.159 

XV “ Mary’s Going to Have a Home ! ” ... 171 

XVI So Bill Goes Back.180 

XVII Bill Gives the Public Mind a Lift . . . 191 

XVIII The Yarn Al Freeman Told.205 

XIX There’ll Be More to Come of It ” . . . 219 

XX Luella Entertains.229 

XXI Bill and the Tame Bandits.240 


V 




















Contents 


OHAPTEB PAGE 

XXII Bill Buys Parowan. 255 

XXIII Bill is Back Where He Started .... 269 

XXIY The Town That Was. 282 

XXV Hopeless Bill Dale. 291 

XXVI Bill Acquires a Cook. 295 


VI 






THE PAROWAN BONANZA 





.■'U ^ 





THE 

PAROWAN BONANZA 


CHAPTER ONE 

HOPEFUL Bn.L DALE 

To those who do not know the desert, the word 
usually conjures a picture of hot, waterless wastes 
of sand made desolate by sparse, withered gray 
sage more depressing than no growth at all; 
blighted by rattlesnakes and scorpions and the 
bleached bones of men from which lean coyotes 
go skulking away in the brazen heat that comes 
with the dawn; a place where men go mad with 
thirst and die horribly, babbling the while of 
mountain brooks and the cool blur of lakes shin¬ 
ing blue in the distance, painted treacherously 
there by the desert mirage. 

Sometimes the desert is like that in certain 
places and at certain seasons of the year, but the 
men who know it best forgive the desert its tres¬ 
passes, and love it for its magnificent distances, 
always beautiful, always changing their pano¬ 
rama of lights and shadows on uptilted mesas 

3 


The Parowan Bonanza 

and deep, gray-green valleys. Such men yield to 
the thrall of desert sorcery that paints wonder¬ 
ful, translucent tints of blue, violet and purple 
on all the mountains there against the sky. They 
love the desert nights when the stars come down 
in friendly fashion to gaze tranquilly upon them 
as they sit beside their camp fires and smoke and 
dream, and see rapturous visions of great wealth 
born of that mental mirage which is but another, 
bit of desert enchantment. 

Bill Dale was such a man. Hopeful Bill, men 
called him, with the corners of their mouths tipped 
down. Bill loved the desert, loved to wander over 
it with his two burros waddling under full packs 
of grub and mining tools and dynamite. He loved 
to pry and peck into some mineral outcropping in 
a far canyon where no prospector had been be¬ 
fore him. And though he sometimes cursed the 
heat and the wind and brackish water, where he 
expected a clear, cold spring, he loved the desert, 
nevertheless, and called it home. 

Men jibed at his unquenchable optimism and 
mistook the 'man behind his twinkling eyes for a 
rainbow chaser, mirage-mad in a mild way. For 
even in Nevada, where the hills have made many 
a man a millionaire, they laugh at the seeker and 
call failure after him until he has found what he 
seeks. Then they want his friendship and a share 

4 


Hopeful Bill Dale 

in his good fortune; and this merely because Ne¬ 
vada is peopled — very thinly — with human be¬ 
ings and not by gods or saints. 

Occasionally, when Bill Dale came to town for 
fresh supplies and mail, some one would wonder 
why a great, strapping fellow like Hopeful didn^t 
go to work. Perhaps that was because Hopeful 
carried a safety razor in his pack, and had the 
knack of looking well-groomed on a pint of water, 
a clean shirt, an aluminum comb and six inches 
of mirror. Your orthodox prospector (at least in 
fiction) promises himself a bath and a clean shave 
when he strikes it rich, and frequently is made 
to forego the luxury for years. 

Men liked Hopeful Bill, but they thought he 
was a shiftless cuss who would never amount to 
anything, since he had taken to the burro trail. 
A few remembered that HopefuPs father had been 
unlucky in a boom when Hopeful was just a kid. 
They thought it was a bad thing to have the legend 
of a gold mine in the family. Personally they 
called him a good scout, — and that was because 
they could borrow money from him, if he had 
any, and need not fear the embarrassment of be¬ 
ing asked to repay it. They could tell their pri¬ 
vate troubles to Bill and be sure that he w^ould 
never betray the confidence. But it never occurred 
to any man that knew him that Hopeful Bill Dale 

5 


The Parowan Bonanza 

miglit now and then need money, or sympathy, 
or some one besides his menagerie to tell his 
troubles to. 

It was the menagerie that belittled Hopeful Bill 
Dale in the eyes of his fellows. Commonplace 
souls they were, their brains dust-dry in that 
cranny where imagination should flourish. They 
could not see why any grown man should carry 
a green parrot and a great, gray, desert turtle 
around with him wherever he went. They were 
willing to concede the harmlessness of the fuzzy- 
faced Airedale, since any man is entitled to own a 
dog if he wants one. But they could not under¬ 
stand a man who would call a dog Hezekiah; which 
was not a dog^s name at all. The mournful, hairy- 
chopped Hezekiah was therefore a walking proof 
of Hopeful Bill Daleys eccentricity. And as all 
the world knows, a man must be rich before he 
dare be different from his fellows. 

Of course, they argued in Goldfield, any grown 
man that would keep a turtle on a string — tied 
firmly through a hole bored in the tail of its 
shell — might be expected to call it Sister Mitchell 
and claim that it had a good Methodist face. Who 
ever heard of a turtle having a face ? And there 
was the parrot, that cooed lovingly against BilPs 
cheek and made little kissing sounds with its beak, 
— the same beak that had taken a chunk out of a 

6 


Hopeful Bill Dale 

stranger hand, swearing volubly at her victim 
afterward. Even if Goldfield could overlook the 
parrot, there was its name to damn Hopeful Bill 
Dale finally and completely. Couldn't call it 
Polly, which is the natural, normal name for a 
parrot! No, he had to name the thing Luella. 
Add to that Bill's burros, that answered gravely 
to the names Wise One and Angelface. Could any 
man know these things and still take Bill Dale 
seriously? 

Goldfield shook its head — behind Bill's back — 
and said he was a nice, likable fellow, but — 
a little bit ‘‘ off " in some ways. 

So there you have him, according to the esti¬ 
mate of his acquaintances: A great, good-natured, 
fine-looking man in his early thirties; a man al¬ 
ways ready to listen to a tale of woe or to put 
his hand in his pocket and give of what he had, 
nor question the worthiness of the cause; hut a 
man who seemed content to wander through the 
hills prospecting, when he might have made a 
success of some business more certain of yielding 
a good living — and mediocrity; a man with a 
queer kink somewhere in his make-up that pre¬ 
vented his taking life seriously. 

Prospectors were usually men who, having 
failed, through age or other cause, to make good 
at anything else, took to burrowing in the hills 

7 


The Parowan Bonanza 

and pecking at rocks and dreaming. If the habit 
fixed itself upon them they became plain desert 
rats, crack-brained and useless for any other vo¬ 
cation. Hopeful Bill Dale was too young, too 
vigorous to have the name ‘‘ desert rat laid 
upon him, — yet. But it was tacitly agreed that 
he was in a fair way to become a desert rat, if 
he did not pull up short and turn his mind to 
something else. The purposeless life he was lead¬ 
ing would get him in a few more years, they 
prophesied sagely. 

One day in spring Bill Dale walked behind his 
burros into Goldfield and outfitted for a long trip. 
Had any one examined closely BilPs pack loads, 
he would have guessed that Hopeful Bill had a 
camp established somewhere in the wilderness 
and was in for all the grub his two Igiirros and 
a borrowed one could carry. 

i The storekeeper knew, as he weighed out sugar, 
rice, beans, dried fruit (prunes, raisins and apri¬ 
cots mostly), that Bill was buying with a careful 
regard for the maximum nourishment coupled 
with the minimum weight. For instance. Bill 
bought five pounds of black tea, though he loved 
coffee with true American fervor. Rolled oats 
he also bought, — a twenty-five pound sack. 
There was a great deal of nourishment in rolled 
oats, properly cooked. And when Bill called for 

8 


Hopeful Bill Dale 

two large cans of beef extract, the storekeeper 
looked at him knowingly. 

Goin’ to develop something youVe struck, 
hey? he guessed with unconscious presumption. 

‘‘ Going to stay till the grub’s low, anyway,” 
Bill drawled imperturbably. Hazing burros 
over the trail is going to be hot work, from now 
on until fall. It’s cooler in the hills. I’m tak¬ 
ing out a rented burro that will come back alone. 
I figure this grubstake ought to run me until cool 
weather. ” 

‘‘ Got a pretty good claim? ” Storekeepers in 
mining towns are likely to be inquisitive. 

Can’t say as I have,” Bill grinned. “ Open 
for engagements with old Dame Fortune, though. 
Kinda hoping, too, that she don’t send her daugh¬ 
ter, instead, to make a date with me. ’ ’ 

Her daughter? ” The storekeeper was one 
of those who had desert, dust in the folds of his 
brain. Who’s she? ” 

Bill looked at-him soberly, rolling a smoke with 
fingers smoother and better kept than prospectors, 
usually could show. 

Mean to tell me you never met Miss For¬ 
tune yet? ” His lips were serious; as for his 
eyes, one never could tell. His eyes always had 
a twinkle. She can sure keep a man guessing,’^ 
he added. ^ ‘ I like her mother better, myself. ’ ’ 

9 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Oil. Er—he-he! Pretty good/’ testified the 
storekeeper dubiously. Something queer about a 
fellow that springs things you never heard of be¬ 
fore, he was thinking. The storekeeper liked best 
the familiar jokes he had heard all his life.. He 
didn’t have to think out their meaning. 

Hey! Cut that out! Bill! Take a look at 
that! ” A voice outside called imperiously, and 
Bill swung toward the door. 

What is it, Luella? ” 

^ ‘ Take a look at that! Git a move on! ” 

In the doorway Bill stopped. Luella was walk¬ 
ing pigeon-toed up and down the back of Wise 
One, where she usually perched while Bill trav¬ 
eled the desert. Three half-grown boys were 
crowding close, trying to reach the string of Sis¬ 
ter Mitchell, who had crawled under the store 
steps. The string was fastened to the crotch of 
Wise One’s pack saddle, and Wise One was cir¬ 
cling slowly, keeping his heels toward the enemy. 
Luella’s tail was spread fan wise, showing the red 
which even Nature seems to recognize as a dan¬ 
ger signal. Her eyes were yellow flames, her neck 
feathers were ruffled. By all these signs Luella 
was not to be trifled with. 

^ ^ Cut that out! Hez! Here, Hez! Where the 
hell is that dog? Hezekiah! Bill! Come alive, 
come alive! ” Up and down, up and down, one 

10 


Hopeful Bill Dale 

foot lifted over the other, her eyes on the gig¬ 
gling boys, Luella expostulated and swore. 

Bill stepped outside, thromng away the burnt 
stub of a match. The three boys looked at him 
and fled, though Bill was not half so dangerous 
as Luella or Wise One, either of which would have 
sent them yelping in another minute. 

Hez! Here, Hez! Where the helPs that 
dog? ’’ Luella called again impatiently and 
wheeled, stepping up relievedly upon BilPs out¬ 
stretched finger. Lord, what a world! she 
muttered pensively, and subsided under BilPs ca¬ 
ressing hand. 

Bill dragged Sister Mitchell from under the 
steps and swung her. Lead down, to the porch. 
He sat down heside her, his knees drawn up, 
Luella perched upon one of them. 

Add two cartons of Durham, will you? Bill 
called over his shoulder to the storekeeper and 
turned back to his perturbed pets. 

Sister Mitchell thrust forth a cautious head and 
craned a skinny neck, looking for fresh alarms. 
Luella tilted her head and eyed‘the turtle specu¬ 
latively. Cut that out! she commanded 
harshly, and Sister Mitchell drew in her head 
timorously before she realized that it was only 
parrot talk and not to be taken seriously. 

The storekeeper asked Bill a question which ne- 

11 


The Parowan Bonanza 

cessitated BilPs personal examination of two 
brands of bacon; wherefore, he placed Luella 
on the porch beside Sister Mitchell and went in¬ 
side to finish making up his load of supplies. 
When he emerged with a sack of flour on his 
shoulder and three sides ‘of bacon under one arm, 
Luella was riding up the platform on Sister 
MitchelPs back and telling her to git a move 
on.’’ At the other end of the porch a small audi¬ 
ence stood laughing at the performance. 

What’ll you take for that parrot. Hopeful? ” 
a man asked, grinning. 

Same price you ask for your oldest kid,” Bill 
retorted, and returned for another load from the 
store. 

^ ‘ Make that strike yet ? ’ ’ another called, as Bill 
came out with his arms full. 

You bet! Solid ledge of gold, Jim. Knock 
it off in chunks with a single-jack and gadget. 
Bring you a hunk next trip in — if I can think 
of it.” 

Hate to hang by the heels till you do,” Jim 
retorted. 

‘ ‘ Hate to have you, ’ ’.Bill agreed placidly, step¬ 
ping over Luella and her mount that he might 
deposit his load on the edge of the porch. 

What yuh got out there, anyway? ” Jim per¬ 
sisted curiously. “You aren’t packing all that 

12 


Hopeful Bill Dale 

grub out in the desert just to eat in the shade 
of a Joshuway tree. What yuh got? ’’ 

Hopes.’’ Bill bent and slid a sack from his 
shoulder to the pile of supplies. Outcropping 
of lively looking rock, Jim. Good indications. 
I’m hoping it’ll turn out something, maybe, when 
I get into it a ways. ’ ’ 

Get an assay on it? ” Jim’s curiosity was 
fading perceptibly. The same old story: lively 
looking rock, indications; desert rats all came in 
with that elusive encouragement. 

Trace of silver, two dollars in gold,” Hope¬ 
ful Bill replied. ^ ^ I’m hoping* it ’ll run into higher 
values when I hit the contact. ’ ’ 

What contact you got? ” Jim’s tone was 
plainly disparaging. You can’t bank too strong 
on values at contact. Bill. ’ ’ 

Well, this looks pretty fair,” Bill argued 
mildly. ^ ^ A showing of quartzite, — if it’s in 
place; which I’m digging to find out. Nothing 
lost but a little sweat and powder, if I don’t hit 
it. I can eat as cheaply in the hills as I can here. 
Cheaper.” From under his dusty hat brim he 
sent a glance toward the restaurant across the 
street. And I know it’s clean. I like to have 
eat a fly, this noon.” 

Why didn’t you try the Waffle Parlorf 
They’ve got screens.” 


13 


The Parowan Bonanza 

My own cooking suits me just fine,’’ Bill re¬ 
turned amiably. ( 

All right, if you like that kinda life,” Jim 
carped. I should think you’d want to get 'into 

something. Bill. You aren’t any has-been-” 

Nope, I’m a never-was,” Bill retorted shame¬ 
lessly. ‘ ^ And a going-to-be, ’ ’ he added with naive 
assurance. You mark that down in your book, 
Jim. Some day you’re going to brag about know¬ 
ing Bill Dale. Some day your tone’s going to 
be hearty and your hand’ll be out when you see 
me coming. You guys will all of you be saying 
you knew me wJien/^ 

The group bent backward to let the laughs out 
full and free. Into the midst of their mirth Luella 
came scrabbling with her pigeon-toed walk, her 
tail spread wide and her throat ruffled. 

‘‘You cut that out!” she shrieked angrily. 
“ Hez! Here, Hez! Where the hell’s that dogf 
Git outa here! Git a move on. ’ ’ 

Bill grabbed her before she succeeded in shed¬ 
ding blood. 

“ Luella doesn’t like the tone of that applause,” 
he observed, holding her close to his chest while 
he smoothed her ruffled feathers. “ Luella’s a 
sensitive bird, and she stands up for her folks.” 

With three loaded burros nipping along be¬ 
fore him, the whiskered Hezekiah slouching at 

14 



Hopeful Bill Dale 

his heels, and Lnella and Sister Mitchell riding 
serenely the pack of Wise One, Bill left the town 
and struck off up the hill by a trail he knew that 
would cut off a great elbow of the highway, which 
was dusty and rutted with the passing of great, 
heavy ore w^agons and automobiles loaded with 
fortune-hunters and camp equipment. At the 
crest of the long slope the burros stopped to 
breathe, and Bill turned and stood gazing back at 
the camp whose first fever was already cooling 
a bit, leaving the restless ones a bit bored and 
eager for some new strike in a fresh district, with 
the whooping boom times that must inevitably 
follow. 

Laugh, darn you! Bill figuratively ad¬ 
dressed Jim and his companions down there in 
the town. You’re bone from your necks up, or 
you’d see plumb through my talk — and be on 
my trail like ants after a leaky syrup can. Go 
ahead and laugh, and call me a fool behind my 
back! You won’t take the notion to follow me, 
anyway. ’ ’ 

^ ^ Lord, what a world! ’ ’ chuckled Luella, 
scrambling for fresh foothold on the canvas pack 
as Wise One started on with a lurch. 

You’re dead right, old girl,” Bill agreed; and 
went on, grinning at something hidden in his 
thoughts. 


i 


15 


CHAPTER TWO 


MUSIC HATH CHAKMS 

Just before sundown, while Bill and his burros 
and Hezekiah were plodding down the highway 
toward the sporadic camp called Cuprite, a big 
touring car came roaring up behind and passed 
Hopeful Bill in a smothering cloud of yellow dust. 
Bill observed that it was loaded with luggage 
and stared after it with that aimless interest 
which the empty desert breeds in men. A coyote 
on a hilltop, a strange track in the trail, human 
beings traveling that way,—it matters little what 
trivial thing breaks the monotony of plodding 
through desert country. 

Bill could remember when this same road was' 
peopled with men rushing here and there after 
elusive fortune. Good men and bad, honest men 
and thieves, the dust never settled to lie long upon 
the yellow trail. That last two years had made 
a difference. The tide was fast ebbing, and men 
were rushing elsewhere in search of the millions 
they coveted. 

Get a move on! Bill called to Wise One, at 

16 


Music Hath Charms 

the head of the pack train, with the strange burro 
tied behind at a sufficient length of rope to pro¬ 
tect him from Wise One’s heels, which were likely 
to lift unexpectedly. Luella repeated the com¬ 
mand three times without stopping, and the bur¬ 
ros shuffled a bit faster in the lowering dust cloud 
kicked up by the speeding car. 

Farther on. Wise One stopped short, backing 
up from an object in the trail. Bill went forward 
to investigate, and lifted from the ground a black 
leather case such as musicians use to hold band 
instruments. Bill undid the catches and looked 
in upon a shining, silver object with a gold-lined, 
bell-shaped mouth and many flat discs all up and 
down its length. He gazed up the road, already 
veiled with the purplish haze that comes to the 
desert before dusk, when the sun has dipped be¬ 
hind a mountain. The car was gone, hidden com¬ 
pletely from sight by a low ridge. 

They’ll be back,” Bill observed tranquilly, 
and tied the case securely upon the pack of Angel- 
face. ‘‘ They’re bound to miss a thing like that. 
Anyway, I’ll probably run across ’em some¬ 
where.” 

Hate to hang till yuh do,” remarked Luella, 
who had evidently been adding to her repertoire 
in Goldfield while no one thought she was taking 
heed; which is the way of parrots the world over. 

17 


The Parowan Bonanza 

I don’t know about that, now,” Bill grinned. 

Anyway, if it was mine, I know I’d miss it. I 
always did want to play a horn.” 

Aw, cut it out! ” Luella advised him shrew- 
ishly. Git a move on! ” Which pertinent re¬ 
tort may possibly explain why Hopeful Bill Dale 
looked upon the parrot as a real companion. He 
swore that the bird understood what he said and 
conversed intelligently, so far as her vocabulary 
permitted. And her vocabulary, while simple, 
seemed sufficient for her needs. 

Instead of turning aside to a certain spring and 
camping there for the night. Bill camped near the 
road where he could not miss seeing and being 
seen, if any came that way. It was quite a tramp 
to the spring, so he took a couple of desert water 
bags and mounted Wise One, leaving the other 
two burros to follow, and trusting his supplies 
to the care of Hezekiah and the parrot. 

He was not approached that night, nor the next 
day. Cars passed him, it is true, hurrying 
through dust clouds from either direction; but 
never the automobile that had lost the horn. So 
Bill arrived, in the course of time, at his camp, 
richer— or poorer, according to vieAvpoint — by 
one band instrument of doubtful name and un¬ 
known possibilities. 

In spring the desert is beautiful. Bill loved 

18 


Music Hath Charms 

the desert flowers, vivid pinks and blues and yel¬ 
lows, dainty of form, sweet as honeycomb. He 
loved the desert lights, as delicately vivid as were 
the flowers growing out of the sandy soil, shyly 
snuggled against some stiff, scraggy bush. Cot¬ 
tontails romped through the sage in the after¬ 
glow that lingers long in that high altitude, and 
Bill let them go unmolested, and gave Hezekiah 
a lecture. He did not believe in killing just be¬ 
cause one can, and there was meat in camp al¬ 
ready. From the juniper bushes above the spring 
the quail were calling. ‘‘ Shut-that-door! Shut- 
that-door! — or so Bill and Luella interpreted 
the call. Farther up on the hillside, doves were 
crying mournfully. And Bill knew that higher, 
on the very top of the butte, mountain sheep, deer 
and antelope were hiding their bandy-legged 
yf)ung away from the prowling coyotes and ‘‘ link 
cats ^ ^ that were less conscientious than Bill when 
the chance came for a killing. 

Yet this was the desert, against which men 
rail. There was no mistaking. Out there stood 
a barrel cactus, almost within reach of a gaunt 
yucca whose awkward, spiny limbs were rigidly 
upheld like bloated arms, — colloquially called 
Joshua trees because they seemed always to be 
imploring!the sun. Down in the valley a dry lake 
lay baked yellow, hard as cement, with dust devils 

19 


The Parowan Bonanza 

whirling dizzily down its bald length when Bill 
looked that way. On the map you will see that 
valley. It is officially known as the Amargosa 
Desert. And over the ridge which wore a mystic 
veil of blended violet and amethyst, Death Valley 
lay crouched low amongst the hills. The maps call 
that amethyst and violet pile the Funeral Moun¬ 
tains; and away to the east, Bill could see the 
faint blue line of Skull Mountains and the Spec¬ 
ter Eange standing bold behind the Skeleton 
Hills; proof enough that this was the desert, since 
it bore the sinister names given it by those who 
knew too little and dared too much. 

It could be cruel, — but not crueller than the 
cities. It could be lonely, though not so lonely 
as a multitude. The air was clean and sweet and 
of that heady quality that only altitude can give. 
Bill squatted on his heels by his camp fire, just 
about four thousand feet above sea level, — higher 
than that above the floor of Death Valley, whose 
rim he could see, whose poison springs he knew, 
whose terrible breath he had drawn into his 
nostrils. 

From now on the geography will remain closed 
and you must take my word for it. And when 
I tell you that the great, blunt-topped butte be¬ 
hind him was Parowan Peak, don’t look for it 
on the map; you ’ll never find it. It’s a great, wild 

20 


Music Hath Charms 

country, a beautiful, savage country, and if you 
don’t love it you will fear it greatly. And fear 
it is that rouses the sleeping devil of the‘desert 
and sets the bones of men bleaching under the arid 
sky. 

Hopeful Bill Dale knew the desert, and loved 
it, and made friends with it. He plucked a bright 
red ‘‘ Indian paintbrush ” from beside a rock and 
held it up to Luella, watching him cock-eyed from 
her crude perch of juniper laid across two forked 
sticks driven into the sand. Luella took the flower 
in one claw, looked it over and dropped it dis¬ 
dainfully. 

‘ ‘ Aw, cut it out! Let’s eat, ’ ’ she suggested. 

You’re on,” BiU replied amiably, turning 
fried potatoes out of the frying pan. Come and 
get it, old girl. ’ ’ 

Luella was not a flying bird, except under stress 
of great emotion. Now she leaned head down¬ 
ward, her beak closing upon a knob where a small 
branch had been lopped off the stick. Turning 
like an acrobat, she went down with the aid of 
beak and claws, and pigeon-toed over to Bill’s 
crude table, crawled upon a convenient rock and 
waited solemnly for her first helping of fried po¬ 
tato, which she ate daintily, holding it in one claw. 

<< IVe got a surprise for you, old girl,” Bill 
began, when the edge of their hunger had dulled 

21 


The Parowan Bonanza 

a bit. ^ ‘ That hom we picked up in the road, — 
it^s mine now, by right of discovery. You saw 
how I stuck to the Goldfield road and made an 
extra day’s journey of the trip, just in case that 
car came back, hunting for the horn. Lord knows 
where they are, by now. So I figure the thing 
belongs to me. After supper, I’m going to open 
her up and give you some music. ’ ’ 

Hate to hang till yuh do,” Luella observed 
pessimistically. Let’s eat.” 

Bill dipped a piece of bread in his cotfee and 
gave it to her, unmoved by her pessimism. ‘ ^ One 
thing a fellow needs out here alone is distraction,” 
he went on. You’re getting so you know'more 
than I do — leave you to tell it — and you ’re more 
human than lots of folks. You’ve reached the 
point where I can’t seem to teach you anything 
more, Luella. You could almost hold down a claim 
alone, except for the cooking and maybe swinging 
a single-jack. So I figure a little diversion will 
come in about right. ’ ’ 

You’re on,” said Luella. Git a move on.” 

So that is how Hopeful Bill Hale conceived the 
idea of becoming a musician, thus making use of 
the opportunity which Providence — or some¬ 
thing not so kind-—had thrown in his way. It 
may seem a trivial thing, but trivial things have a 
fashion of tripping one’s feet in the race for hap- 

22 


Music Hath Charms 

piness, or perchance proving to be the one factor 
that makes success certain. Bill washed his 
dishes and tidied his camp, and then he opened 
the instrument case and for the first time removed 
the shining thing within. Luella, once more back 
on her perch, watched him distrustfully. 

Luck’s own baby boy! ” he ejaculated under 
his breath. Here’s a book goes with it. ^ Pro¬ 
gressive Method for the Saxophone.’ Saxophone, 
hunh? I always did want to learn one, Luella; 
believe it or not. Well, let’s go.” 

Aw, cut it out! ” Luella advised him gloom¬ 
ily, but Bill was absorbed in putting together the 
instrument and in reading certain directions on 
the first page of the book. 

Followed a muttered monologue, accompanied 
by certain unusual grimaces and gestures. 

‘ Upper and lower lips slightly over the teeth 
— chin must be down — lips drawn back as when 
laughing. ’ I got that, all right. ^ Put the mouth¬ 
piece into the mouth a little less than halfway. ’ ’ ’ 
Goggling down at the page. Bill obeyed, — or tried 
to. When he recovered from that experiment, he 
read in silence and looked up at Luella puzzled. 

‘‘Now if you were human, you could maybe 
explain to me how a fellow is going to breathe 
steadily without making use of his nose, mouth, 
ears or eyes,” he hazarded. “ Your mouth is 

23 


The Parowan Bonanza 

full of saxophone to your palate and past it, and 
you mustn’t breathe through your nose, because 
that looks bad, and your eyes must follow the 
notes and it’s against the rule to pu:ff out your 
cheeks, which is unbecoming. I figure, Luella, a 
man’s got to curl up his toes and die till he’s 
through playing. Hunh ? ’ ’ 

‘ ^ Git a move on! Come alive, come alive! ’ ’ 

‘ ^ Oh, well, — ’ ’ said Bill, and began again. 
Nothing happened, save imminent death from 
strangulation. Bill looked foolishly at the instru¬ 
ment. Once more he placed certain fingers care¬ 
fully upon certain keys, flattened his lips to a 
fixed, painful grin, swallowed as much mouthpiece 
as was possible without choking himself to death, 
and blew until his eyes popped. Sister Mitchell 
came slowly forward and stood with her skinny 
gray neck stretched toward Bill, her melancholy 
eyes regarding curiously the long silver thing in 
Bill’s tense embrace. Hezekiah came up and 
squatted on his stump of a tail, his ugly, hairy 
face tilted sidewise while he stared. Bill’s family 
were always keenly interested in everything that 
concerned Bill, if it were only a new label on a 
can of tomatoes. 

Didn’t get a rise out of it yet,” Bill apolo- ? 
gized embarrassedly, ‘‘but I will. I’ve heard 
fellows warble on these brutes till your heart fair 

24 


Music Hath Charms 

melts in your chest. What they can do, I can 
do. A little music, evenings, is what this camp 
needs. 

In the dimming light he read the confusing in¬ 
structions all over again, engulfed the ebony 
mouthpiece within his carefully grinning mouth, 
took a deep breath, — and something slipped. A 
terrific, deep bass note rumbled forth quite un¬ 
expectedly, before Bill had fairly begun to blow. 

Bill jumped. Sister Mitchell disappeared pre¬ 
cipitately into her shell, Luella let out an oath 
which Bill only used under sudden ovei*whelming 
emotion, and Hezekiah gave^a howl and streaked 
it into the desert. 

Bill recovered first, and on the whole he w^as 
pleased with himself. He had gotten the hang of 
it by sheer accident, and he sat and made terrible 
sounds while Luella paced up and down her perch 
with her tail spread, cursing and imploring by 
turns. 

She wronged Bill if she thought that Bill en¬ 
joyed his spasmodic blattings and squeakings. 
He did not. He winced at every squawk, even 
while he persisted doggedly in the uproar. 
Through discord only might he hope to become a 
master of the melody he craved, wherefore he en¬ 
dured the discord, thankful that no human being 
was near. It took him all the next day to round 

25 


The Parowan Bonanza 

up the burros, however, and Sister Mitchell went 
into retirement in her shell and remained there 
stubbornly. 

Thereafter, the stars looked down upon a pa¬ 
thetic little desert comedy enacted every night: 
The pathetic comedy of Bill Dale tying up his 
burros and his dog and anchoring a gray desert 
turtle to a rock before he sat down, with a dull- 
green instruction book before him on the ground, 
its corners weighted with small rocks, and prac¬ 
ticed dolefully and indefatigably upon a silver- 
plated saxophone. As long as he could see he 
would sit cross-legged, humped over his notes, — 
of which he possessed a rudimentary knowledge 
learned in school. When darkness blurred the 
staff. Bill would tootle up and down the scale 
to the accompaniment of vituperous remarks from 
Luella and an occasional howl from Hez. 

Down deep in his heart there was a reason, 
which he would not divulge to any one, much less 
Luella. Twenty miles away, in a vine-covered 
ranch house that looked out upon the desert from 
under the branches of cool, green cottonwoods, 
a certain Doris Hunter sang sweet old songs some¬ 
times in the twilight, and played a sketchy, pleas¬ 
ant little accompaniment upon the piano. Bill 
knew no ecstasy sweeter than sitting in the gloam¬ 
ing, staring dreamily up through the cottonwood 

26 


Music Hath Charms 

branches at the evening star, while Doris sang 
‘ ‘ Love ^s Old Sweet Song. ’ ^ 

The pathetic note in the little comedy, the note 
which his outraged menagerie missed altogether, 
was the fact that Bill would sit for hours, there 
under the stars, and try to play Lovers Old 
Sweet Song.’’ And while he tried patiently to 
make the notes come true, his heart was away 
over the ridge and down in that little, vine- 
covered ranch house, worshiping Doris Hunter 
while she sang. 

A dream came to him every night while he 
played and watched the stars. He dreamed of 
some day going down to the Hunter ranch, mth 
some perfectly convincing excuse for a visit. He 
would have the saxophone tied on Wise One, who 
was more dependable in his habits than Angel- 
face, who was a devil. He would wait until after 
supper, when Doris would finally settle down on 
the piano stool. Then he would remember his 
saxophone and suggest nonchalantly that they try 
a few little things together. Doris would round 
her eyes at him, and the dimple would show in 
her left cheek when she begged him to bring it in. 

Then, — Bill’s lips would smile in spite of the 
correct position of the mouth, when he reached 
that point in his dream — then, after a little talk, 
and the whole family gathering around to ex- 

27 


The Parowan Bonanza 

claim over the beautiful instrument (which really 
was beautiful, in cold reality), why, then Bill 
would suggest something, and Doris would strike 
a preliminary chord or two, and Bill would follow 
her voice softly with his music while she sang: 

“ Jiist a song at twi-light, 

When the lights ar-re low, 

A-and the flickering sha-adows, 

Sof-ftly come and go-o—” 

BilPs lips would soften, his eyes would grow 
luminous and very, very tender. He would for¬ 
get to play and would stare up into the gemmed 
purple, and wonder, and dream, and hope. 

After a long while, when Luella had tucked her 
head under her mng, Bill would lay the saxo¬ 
phone carefully in its velvet nest and begin ab¬ 
sently to unlace his boots. Doris Hunter — the 
gold mine he meant to find — had indeed almost 
found — Lovers Old Sweet Song — the skill 
to play while Doris sang; these things mingled 
indissolubly in his soul while he slept and 
dreamed, shuttled through his waking mind while 
he worked. 

So this was the real Bill Dale, whom men called 
Hopeful Bill with their mouths tipped do^vn. 


28 


CHAPTER THREE 


LUELLA ANNOUNCES 

In the beginning of mining booms, accident and 
freaks of chance are popularly supposed to play 
the leading role. A mule, for instance, played 
fairy godmother when it let fly its heels and kicked 
a nub off a ledge of fabulous richness in gold. 
A man threw a rock at a jack rabbit, and then 
realized that the rock was heavier than it should 
be; sought its mates and found a mine. Or a 
man takes an inadvertent slide down a ledge and 
lands upon a bonanza. 

These things do happen occasionally; and, be¬ 
ing ready-made romance, they are seized upon 
avidly by the teller of tales. So the public comes 
to believe that chance, and chance alone, discovers 
the precious minerals and leads men like blind 
children to the spot; a sort of Shut-your-eyes- 
and-open-your-mouth game played by Fate. 

In reality, more mines are found by careful 
prospecting than are ever given to the world by 
sheer accident. More and more is science turn¬ 
ing prospector, and men go carefully, reading 

29 


The Parowan Bonanza 

geologic formations, following volcanic breaks and 
mineral outcroppings. Your desert prospector 
may eat with his knife and forget to take otf his 
hat in the house, but he can talk you blind on 
intrusions and sedimentary deposits and the dips, 
angles and faults of certain mineral formations 
he knows. Chlorides, bromides,^’ sulphides,— 
these things are the shop talk of desert and moun¬ 
tains. Men speak of one another with praise or 
disparagement, as knowing rock or as not 
knowing rock. And the man who does not know 
rock is the man who goes about praying for a 
mule to kick the dirt off a gold outcropping for 
him. 

Bill Dale knew rock. He had spent two years, 
more or less, prospecting on the southern slope 
of Parowan, because there was a ‘ ‘ break run¬ 
ning across, and because, in the lower end of a 
wash that had many feeders wrinkled into the 
mountainside,.he had picked up a few pieces of 
float ’’ carrying free gold in such quantity that 
it would mean a real bonanza if he found it ‘‘ in 
place,which means in a continuous vein lead¬ 
ing to the main body that produced it. 

As a bystander he had observed the boom at 
Goldfield, Tonopah, and at other lesser points. 
His father had been rich in a boom town for a few 
weeks. Then he had been a broken, old pauper 

30 


Luella Announces 

■until he died. Wherefore, Bill Dale did not want 
a premature boom, nor any boom at all. He 
wanted to find the ledge or vein that had pro¬ 
duced that float, so that he would have some¬ 
thing tangible to offer Doris Hunter, — in case 
he ever found courage enough to offer her any- 
tliing. He knew that he was liked by the Hunters; 
but he also knew that as a prospective husband 
for Doris he was never for one moment seriously 
considered. Don Hunter, her father, was a stock- 
man. He did not believe much in mines, and he 
looked askance, from a business viewpoint, at any 
man who spent good, working days in prospect¬ 
ing the desert. It was the most insidious, the 
most hopeless form of gambling, according to Don 
Hunter. He would rather see a man sit do'wn 
to poker and play for a living than to see him 
wallowing around like a badger, digging holes in 
a sidehill looking for wealth. 

Bill had done a great deal of pecking and pry¬ 
ing, up this wash and that. He believed he knew 
where the float had come from, but there seemed 
to be an overburden of soil, probably the result 
of some beating storm and consequent slide, 
which had covered the ledge that had at one time 
been an outcropping. It was slow, tedious work, 
but Bill was a patient man. Prospectors have to 
learn patience, or quit the game. 

31 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Flaunting desert lilies, dainty blue bells, the 
deep magenta bloom of the cacti gave way to 
the tiny pink and pale lavender blossoms that 
cling close to the arid soil. The sky was brazen 
with heat, or it turned deep shades of slate as 
the thunderheads poked over Parowan and rum¬ 
bled wamingly at the desert. Bill worked on 
through the hot days and practised scales and 
simple melodies in the evening, and quarreled 
with’Luella and confided to her many things which 
he would not want repeated. 

One sultry evening he brought into camp sev¬ 
eral pieces of rock and held them where Luella 
could gaze upon certain telltale, yellow specks. 
BilPs perspiring face glowed. His eyes were 
dancing with something akin to mirth. 

“ WeVe struck it, old girl! What IVe been 
looking for all this while. Biggest thing yet, from 
the looks. WeTe rich, I tell you! Doggone, thun- 
deiing rich! You watch Parowan go on the map. 
Biggest thing in the country. If I showed that 
rock in Goldfield, they’d be down here like flies.” 
He laid the rock down and broke a dry stick across 
his knee, meaning to start a fire. But he was ex¬ 
cited and kept on talking, — now definitely to 
Luella, now to himself. 

It’s the kind of thing I’ve been hunting. I 
knew it should be here somewhere. This district 

32 


Luella Announces 

is entitled to a big mine. It's got all the earmarks. 
I’ve got her traced, now. That rock is in place, 
or I’m a Chinaman. I tell you, old girl, we’re 
rich! I’ve got a nugget in my shirt pocket that 
I didn’t show you, for fear you might swallow it.” 

‘^Aw, cut it out!” Luella snapped at him. 
She was a pessimistic bird, as a rule. 

Bill burrowed deeper and found more gold. 
Eock so rich that he could break it up by hand 
and pan it in the spring, and glean gold enough 
for another grubstake, more equipment. He was 
in no great hurry to proclaim his fortune to the 
world, and he did not mean to show himself in 
town until his grub was gone. Then he would 
make a trip, buy more supplies, perhaps hire a 
man if he could find one whom he could trust. He 
did not want the harpies to know about Parowan, 
— yet. 

He relieved his inner excitement by talking 
to Luella, and by tootling on the saxophone and 
dreaming of Doris Hunter, who did not seem quite 
so unattainable, now that he had found the mine 
he had wanted to find and was proving it richer, 
than his most lavish expectations. 

With the first discovery he had put up his 
location notices on three claims, calling them sim¬ 
ply Parowan Number One, Parowan Number Two 
and Parowan Number Three. And in compliment 

33 


The Parowan Bonanza 

to the girl of his dreams he had located another, 
called it the Evening Star and signed Doris Hun¬ 
ter ^s name as the locator. Which is a chivalrous 
custom observed quite commonly among pro¬ 
spectors. 

He did the location work on all four claims, 
put up the comer and side-line monuments re¬ 
quired by law, and then, having eaten most of his 
supplies, he cached the remainder and started for 
Goldfield, his mind at ease, his heart singing and 
his lips wearing an unconscious half-smile all the 
way. 

It was in Goldfield, while Bill was in the re¬ 
corder’s office, that the news leaked out where it 
shouldn’t. Luella, like others of her sex, began 
talking, inspired by an audience of four men, one 
of whom was Jim Lambert, who had betrayed 
some curiosity over Bill Dale’s affairs when Bill 
was last in town. 

Bill Dale’s outfit. Hello, Luella,” Jim 
greeted. 

Luella looked down at him, seemed to recall 
having seen him before, and began her pigeon- 
toed march up and down Wise One’s spinal 
column. 

Boy, we’ve struck it rich! ” she began, 
chuckling in vivid imitation of Hopeful Bill’s tone 
when he was particularly pleased. Got her 

34 


Luella Announces 

traced now. Eichest thing in Nevada. Goldfield 
can’t show stuff like this. Tell you, old girl, we’re 
rich! Doggone, thunderin’ rich! Can’t tell any¬ 
body. Don’t want a boom. Git a move on! 
They’d be down here like flies. Hez! Hez ’ll have 
a gold collar. Gold perch for you. Luck’s turned; 
luck’s patting us on the back.” Luella laughed, 
then, just as Bill laughed. 

Jim and his three companions had stood per¬ 
fectly still, hstening. Jim turned his head and 
looked at the others, who stared back at him in¬ 
quiringly. 

‘‘ Inside dope, boy, beheve me.” Jim plucked 
the nearest man by the sleeve. ^ ‘ Bill Dale’s par¬ 
rot has give us the real dope on Bill, if you want 
my opinion. Come on. We ’ll lay low, and I’ll feel 
Bill out. He’s inside—recording claims. I’ll bet. 
Anyway, I’ve got a claim to record, come to think 
of it. I’ll git all I can outa the recorder. Bill 
Dale’s parrot has tipped Bill’s hand. I’ll see the 
recorder. ’ ’ 

They went away. Five minutes later. Bill came 
down the steps to his burros and discovered Luella 
toeing it up and down, up and down, practising 
new sets of words. 

Bill Dale’s parrot has tipped Bill’s hand. I’ll 
see the recor’,” she muttered, over and over. 

You damned huzzy,” Bill reproved her, when 

35 



The Parowan Bonanza 

he had got the full significance of her speech. He 
picked up Wise One’s lead rope and went thought¬ 
fully down to the store. 

‘‘We’ll lay low,” Luella continued, bobbing her 
head as Wise One’s empty pack swayed and 
lurched under her feet. “ Come on. We’ll lay 
low. I’ll feel Bill out. Bill Dale’s parrot has 

tipped Bill’s hand. I’ll see the recor-r’-” 

She worried over the final syllable that defeated 
her powers of enunciation. 

Bill looked back at her speculatively. At the 
store, the first thing he asked for was a large, 
pasteboard carton. Having found one which he 
thought would do, he plucked Luella unceremoni¬ 
ously off her perch and shut her up, with the box 
lid tied firmly in place with much heavy Dvine. 

‘ ‘ Fellow tried to steal her, last time I was in, ’ ’ 
he explained good-humoredly. “ She’s a pet I’d 
hate to lose. I’ll give you a dollar if you’ll let 
me put her away somewhere till I’m ready to leave 
town. ’ ’ 

“Sure! Keep the dollar, though. It ain’t any 
trouble — if you feed her yourself.” Bill was 
a good customer. He bought largely when he did 
buy, and he never hinted at credit; which was 
more than could be said of most prospectors. 

“Wait! I’ll just put the turtle in with her. 
Then she’ll be more at home, and won’t try to 

36 



Luella Announces 

break out/^ Bill went out and returned, swing¬ 
ing a headless,footless,tailless mass ofigray turtle 
insouciantly by the string. Bunch of boys was 
after Sister Mitchell too, last time,’^ he observed. 

I hate to have trouble, and I can^t always keep 
an eye on things in town. Got quite a lot of run¬ 
ning around to do.’’ 

He carried the turtle to the back of the store, 
opened the box and slid her in with little 
ceremony. 

What the hell! ” Luella ejaculated, but Bill 
slipped on the cover and left her in darkness, so 
that Luella subsided into throaty mutterings. 
She never talked in the dark, as Bill knew very 
well. 

How’s prospecting? ” the storekeeper asked 
when Bill returned. Found anything? ” 

‘‘ Well, I’ve got a dandy prospect,” Bill con¬ 
fided, lowering his voice and glancing sidelong 
toward the door. I want to do some more dig¬ 
ging, though, before I throw up my hat. Just 
recorded three claims, as I came past the court¬ 
house. I’ve got to go in on a lead, and I want the 
work to count as location work. In fact,” he fur¬ 
ther elucidated, ‘H’ve recorded what work I’ve 
done as location. No use digging for nothing, and 
even if they don’t pan out rich enough to pay now, 

37 


jThe Parowan Bonanza 

SO far from transportation, there ^s enough show¬ 
ing of mineral to pay for hanging on awhile.’’ 

Um-hmm.” The storekeeper nodded. Pity 
all prospectors don’t take the pains to make 
sure uh what they got. They come in here blat- 
tin ’ about their strikes — and want more grub on 
credit. I used to fall for it. What’s your claims? 
Gold? ” 

Showing of gold,” Bill told him unhesitat¬ 
ingly. The formation entitles me to gold, too, 
so that’s what I’m looking for. Here’s a piece of 
rock. Take a look at it. ’ ’ 

The storekeeper tilted the specimen to the light 
and squinted. Bill obligingly lent him a miner’s 
glass, and with his finger pointed to a certain spot 
on the sample. ‘ ^ Eight there — at the edge of 
that iron stain; there’s a speck of color. ’ ’ 

Mh-hmm — yeah — I see it. Well, it’s good, 
live-lookin’ rock. Bill. I think you’re wise to dig 
into it.” He returned the sample, weighing it in 
his mind as he held it out. 

‘‘I’m keeping quiet about it — to outsiders,” 
Bill said, dropping the rock into his pocket again. 
“ Don’t want any stampede. But I do want a 
couple more burros, and a hundred pounds of 
powder, and four boxes of Six-X caps, and five 
hundred feet of fuse. If you can get me all the 
stuff I need, and get the two extra burros packed 

88 


Luella Announces 

and headed down the trail with orders for the fel¬ 
low to camp and wait till I show np, Vll make it 
right with you. This town's got big ears and big 
eyes. And — you can maybe remember why I 
hate boom stampedes that don't pan out. I'll 
give you ten per cent, on every dollar's worth of 
stuff and the cost of the burros you get to — say 
to Hick's Hot Spring for me, and twenty-five dol¬ 
lars for a good, trusty man that can swing a 
single-jack and throw a mess of sour-dough bread 
together." 

The storekeeper ruminated. 

<< Why, I'll do it for nothing. Bill. You're a 
good customer, and if you do make a strike I guess 
I won't lose your trade by treating you white. 
Trade's slidin' into the credit class more'n what 
I like to see. You're hard cash when you buy. 
Just give me your order, and I'll fill it. And 
what's more. I'll keep my damn mouth shut. And 
glad to accommodate yuh. Bill." 

Say, you're a white man! " Bill looked full 
at him and grinned appreciation. But he did not 
confide further in the storekeeper, nevertheless. 

Don't let anybody hang around my pets, and 
don't say who's to own the burros. You buy 'em, 
and I'll buy 'em from you, same as I do bacon. 
And be careful, pickin' that man, will yuh? I 

39 


The Parowan Bonanza 

want one that can swing something besides his 
tongue. ’ ^ 

I getcha, Bill. How about booze? ’’ 

All right — if he can do without for a month 
or two at a stretch. I don’t pack any jugs into 
the desert, as you maybe know.” 

That’s why I asked. Town’s full of good 
men, but they are mostly booze-punishers. Well 
— how long you expect to be in town? ” 

Just until I’m hooked up with what I need.” 

‘‘Well — I can get yuh out to-morrow, maybe.” 

“ Just in case you happen to run shy,-” 

Bill wrote a check on a Reno bank and handed it 
over. “ Any balance, either way, we’ll straighten 
up before I leave.” 

He purloined a handful of withered lettuce 
leaves and dropped them into the box for Sister 
Mitchell and Luella, and went out to idle here 
and there through town and discover, if he could, 
just how much damage Luella had done to his 
plans. 


40 



CHAPTER POUR 


GOOD, LIVELY PEOSPECT 

Jim Lambert had known Bill Dale since the be¬ 
ginning of the boom that had broken BilPs father, 

— broken him mentally and financially. Jim was 
a broker in Goldfield and sold real estate and un¬ 
derwrote fire insurance as a side line. Lately, 
the side line had become the chief industry, since 
mines had begun to close dovm and adventurers 
were drifting on to later excitements. 

Bill did not care much for Jim Lambert. Al¬ 
though he never troubled to explain to himself 
his indiiference that edged close to dishke, he had 
no definite distrust of the man. Yet Jim Lambert 
had been active in his father’s Myrtle Mine boom 
and had professed to sutfer when the bubble burst. 
BilPs father had complained vaguely that Jim 
Lambert was largely responsible for the bursting 
of the bubble, but Bill had not paid much atten¬ 
tion to that talk. He knew his dad too well. His 
dad always blamed some one for his misfortunes, 

— some one other than himself. BilPs nature was 
built of stiffer material. When his plans went 

41 


The Parowan Bonanza 

wrong, Bill set all his energies to work planning 
the next move and wasted little thought upon the 
reason for his last failure; unless, to be sure, in 
that reason lay his safety in the future. Thus, 
Bill flatly refused to help his father play the game 
of find-the-guilty-party. He went to work and 
earned and saved all he could out of it, and when 
he had enough to keep him going for five years, 
he set out deliberately to spend that five years in 
finding a mine. 

Wherefore, Bill never did learn what part, if 
any, Jim Lambert had played in the failure of 
the Myrtle Mine. All he knew was that the mine 
had been attached and sold by its creditors, and 
his father had come out of it without a dollar. 
And he knew that he was not going to be caught 
that way when he had found his mine. He meant 
to steer clear of those speculating crooks who 
managed to loot every enterprise they got hold 
of and still kept out of jail. » 

Jim Lambert met Bill by accident — or so Bill 
believed. It was in the Great Northern bar, where 
Bill was treating himseK to a glass of beer and a 
San Francisco paper in a quiet comer. Both 
were inexpressibly refreshing after his long exile, 
but Bill was not too engrossed to keep a quiet eye 
open for those who came and went, or remained 
to chat desultorily before the polished bar. 

42 


Good, Lively Prospect 

He was waiting for some one to approach him. 
Some one did, presently, and that one was Jim 
Lambert. Jim brought his schooner of beer over 
and sat dov/n opposite Bill, grinning goodfellow- 
ship while he wiped his perspiring brow. 

Got baked out, eh? Must be pretty hot in 
the desert, now.’’ 

Fair,” said Bill, and folded the paper for 
politeness’ sake. Still, it hasn’t been so bad. 
The man that cusses the desert is the man that 
strikes out into it and thinks he’ll hurry up and 
get it over with. The desert’s all right — if you 
know how to take it.” 

I guess you’re right. The old-timers don’t 
seem to have much trouble.” 

Not unless they’re drunk, or have an acci¬ 
dent,” Bill agreed, and took two slow, satisfying 
swallows of beer. 

Well, how’s she going? Hit that contact yet 
you were after? ” Jim spoke over his beer mug 
carelessly. 

Not yet. Been doing location work on three 
claims. Located first and planned to prospect 
more thoroughly afterwards.” He set down the 
mug and reached into his pocket for the specimen 
he had shown to the storekeeper. It was not a 
good sample of his ore; it was, in fact, the 

43 


The Parowan Bonanza 

^ leanestrock he could find. But he pushed it 
across the table with an air of subdued pride. 

Jim picked it up, testing its weight as he did 
so. Bill hooked his toes behind his chair legs and 
leaned forward expectantly, watching Jim Lam¬ 
bert’s face. He thought he read there a shade of 
disappointment, and he leaned back satisfied. 
Luella, he told himself, did not talk to perfect 
strangers except when goaded to profanity by 
teasing. Jim she had seen many times. 

Good, lively-looking rock,” Jim said at last, 
repeating the storekeeper’s comment. Carries 
gold, doesn’t it? ” 

‘‘You bet! Here, take this glass and look 
right there at the point of that iron stain. It 
shows color, there, under the glass. When I get 
depth on that, it ought to show good values, don’t 
you think ? ’ ’ 

“ How deep is this? ” Jim turned the rock un¬ 
der the glass. “ Looks to me like surface rock.” 

“ You’re right. That’s outcropping. If I had 
enough of it. I’ll bet it would pay, just as she is. 
Or if it was close to a railroad, even.” 

Jim did not reply. He was pretending to study 
the rock; in reality he was studying Bill Dale. 
Bill’s optimism was a byword, to be sure; yet Jim 
fancied he saw a slight discrepancy between Bill’s 
keen eyes and the easy hopefulness of his words. 

44 


Good, Lively Prospect 

He missed somewhere the good-natured twinkle 
and the drawl. 

Well, it’s pretty good for surface rock,” Jim 
said, when the silence became noticeable. 

Nothing to get excited over, though, do you 
think? ” 

I should say not! It’ll have to look better 
than that before I get excited.” 

Well, good luck to yuh. Bill. If you do get 
something good, let me know. I might be able to 
turn a deal for you. There’s money in this town 
yet — if you can show something good enough. 
It’s shy, but it’s here. I’ll be glad to help you 
out, any way I can.” 

Thanks.” Bill’s drawl was quite apparent 
now. I’ll sure remember, if I want to turn 
anything, later on.” 

Jim looked at his watch and said he must go; 
a simple expedient for breaking off a conversation 
that has grown barren of interest, and one that 
can never be gainsaid. And Bill, having finished 
his beer to the dregs, went away also, quite satis¬ 
fied in his mind. 

His satisfaction was not so keen as Jim’s, how¬ 
ever. Had Bill Dale tiptoed to the door of Jim’s 
office, half an hour later, and put his ear to the 
keyhole, he might have heard himself being 
talked about. 


45 


The Parowan Bonanza 

He didn’t get by, with me,” Jim was saying 
positively. Not for one minute. He showed me 
a piece of rock no better than you can pick up on 
any tailing dump in Goldfield, and claimed that 
was his best showing. It wasn’t good enough to 
account for what that parrot of his let out. Re¬ 
member? I jotted it down, first thing. Parrot 
talk is just parrot talk, but they don’t invent 
nothing. They’ve got to hear it said before they’ll 
say it. And if you might say Bill Hale was teach¬ 
ing it that stuff for fun, that don’t sound reason¬ 
able— knowing Bill.” 

He fumbled for a minute and brought out a 
little, soiled, red book. 

Now here’s what the parrot reeled off, and 
I’ll gamble she got it straight. A man out alone 
by himself lets go and says what he really thinks. 
We all know that. Now, the parrot says, ‘ Boy, 
we’ve struck it rich! Got her traced now. 
Richest thing in Nevada. Goldfield can’t show 
stuff like this. Tell you we’re rich. Won’t tell 
anybody — don’t want a boom. Git a move on! ’ 
(That’s something else, run in). ‘ They’d be 
down here like flies. Gold perch for you. Luck’s 
turned. Luck’s patting us on the back. ’ ’ ’ 

He looked at his companions and grinned. 

Don’t tell me that wasn’t picked up from Bill 
Dale’s camp talli.” 


46 


Good, Lively Prospect 

Maybe he taught the parrot that lingo just to 
have her spill it in town and start a rush,’^ one 
tight-faced man said cautiously. 

Jim shook his head. ‘‘ I saw him in the Great 
Northern — trailed him there. Most generally, 
when BilPs in town, he takes the parrot around 
with him, riding on his shoulder. She’s a smart 
bird. Bill’s proud of her and likes to show her 
off. Talks everything, just hke a human; every¬ 
thing she hears and takes a notion to, that is. 
Well, he didn’t have her with him to-day. He’s 
left her somewhere. From the saloon he went 
into the barber shop. He’s getting a haircut. 
Shave too, probably. Never saw him in a barber 
shop before without that green parrot. My guess 
is, he’s afraid she’ll let out something.” Jim 
put the book back in his pocket with a self-satis¬ 
fied air. Men w^ho live by their wits are usually 
a bit vain of their shrewdness. 

Well, if you’re right, he got scared too late to 
do any good,” chuckled a jovial, round little man 
with one eye milky from cataract. 

He was just coming into town. Leaving her 
in the street for five minutes, up there at the 
courthouse, would look safe enough to anybody. 
It’s just luck we happened along.” 

Well, now, how’s it to help iisf ” The tight¬ 
faced man had brown eyes that stared intently, 

47 


The Parowan Bonanza 

as do the near-sighted. He leaned forward, bring¬ 
ing the conference to a point. 

Four lieads went together, at that, and if Bill 
had been listening at the keyhole he wouldn^t have 
heard much. They were a careful quartette, and 
they had worked in harmony through the com¬ 
plexities of several deals. 

Bill saw Jim Lambert again the next day. Jim 
was in the store, looking boredly impatient to be 
served. The storekeeper's signal to Bill, of tilted 
head and lowered eyelid did not pass unobserved. 
Bill followed him back among the piled boxes of 
canned goods, and Jim idled over to a pile of over¬ 
alls and inspected them carefully while he tried 
to listen. 

He did not hear as much as he desired, and 
much that he did hear was irrelevant. There was 
something about two burros leaving last night. 
Then, after some mumbling, he caught the store¬ 
keeper’s earnest assurance, ‘‘—all right when 
he’s sober. Just off a big drunk, so he’s good for 
three months, anyway. Tommy’s an old, hard- 
rock man; all around good guy if he takes a notion 
to yuh. And I got him cheap for yuh. Three 
dollars and found.” 

Jim Lambert could not guess what To mm y this 
might be, but he was glad to know that Bill was 
hiring a man by the underground route, and that 

4S" 



Good^ Lively Prospect 

TomiT-j liked wKlskv. forking throng the 
storekeeper meant only one thing; the need of 
absolute secrecy. Which provided wonderful il- 
Inmination for a man like Jim Lambert. 

Jim moved carelessly back to the front of the 
store and was giving his order to the clerk when 
Bill emerged^ carrying a spitefnl-tongned parrot 
on one finger. Bill grinned a greeting at Jim. 

“ Say, ‘ Hello, Jim,’ ” he instructed Luella in 
his coaxing tone. 

Luella’s reply was just barely printable when 
the editor’s sense of humor is keener than his 
Puritanism, Luella blinked and said, “You 
damned hussy, git a move on! ” 

“ She’s peevish,” Bill apologized. “ She’s get¬ 
ting such a darned nuisance in town I had to shut 
her up. Xow you listen to me, old girL Back you 
go in the box, if you don’t behave. Be quiet — 
vou know I mean it.” 

Luella turned and walked up Bill’s arm to his 
shoulder, and leaned forward to click her beak 
against his neck. “Lord, what a world!” she 
murmured, and began daintily to eat half a 
banana which BiU gave her. 

Jim Lambert took his few small packages and 
went out, and Bill saw him no more. Which does 
not mean that Jim ceased to take an interest in 
BiU Dale’s prosperity and personal affairs. 

49 











CHAPTEE FIVE 


STKANGEES IIST CAMP 

From beside a camp fire at the springs which 
Bill Dale had designated as the rendezvous, an 
undersized, ape-bodied individual rose and 
goggled up at Bill through thick-lensed spectacles 
that magnified his eyelids grotesquely. 

‘ ^ Hello, ’ ^ said Bill, looking down at him whim¬ 
sically. Is this the outfit the Goldfield Supply 
Company sent out? 

An’ if ye’ll tell me what business it might be 
uh yoors, I c’d maybe say yis er no to that,” the 
undersized one retorted, raising his voice at the 
end of the sentence as if it were a question. 

All right. Tommy. You’ll do, I reckon. I’m 
Bill Dale, and if I’m not mistaken you’ll be look¬ 
ing to me for your pay.” 

An’ from the look of ye I’ll be earnin’ that 
same,” Tommy suggested drily. 

Bill lifted Luella and Sister Mitchell off Wise 
One, and began to unlash the heavy pack. Tommy 
helping him. The two studied each other with 
covert interest; Tommy seeking to discover 

50 


Strangers in Camp 

whether Bill Dale would make a good boss, one 
easy to work for, which, next to the security of 
his pay, is a laborer’s chief consideration. Bill 
measured Tommy shrewdly as a man who would 
work — and gossip. A man who could be loyal to 
the last gasp, but a man who might easily choose 
to be disloyal. He was a garrulous little Irish¬ 
man, was Tommy; a man of indeterminate age 
and of problematic usefulness. But Bill was not 
inclined to carp. He was content to give Tommy 
a trial, which was as much as the best man could 
justly expect. 

If Tommy had received any hint of the probable 
value of Bill’s claims, he gave no sign of know¬ 
ing. Until he slept he sat cross-legged by the fire 
and stared into the flames through his thick-lensed 
glasses, and regaled Bill with choice anecdotes 
culled from his past, — that endless, obvious 
odyssey of the common laborer whose world is 
bounded by his job.” His voice was a soft, 
complaining monotone saturated with the eternal 
vague question. Never did his inflection fall to 
a period. At a distance which would blur the 
words of his speech, his voice would inevitably 
give one the impression that Tommy was asking 
one reproachful question after another, with 
never a statement to relieve the endless inquiry. 

Bill was amused, but he was also convinced that 

51 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Tommy would presently become a bore. He was 
interested to note that Luella preserved a digni¬ 
fied silence all through the evening. One yellow 
eye on the latest recruit, she sat humped upon 
the crotch of a packsaddle with her green feathers 
ruffled moodily, still sulking over her incarcera¬ 
tion with Sister Mitchell. 

At Parowan, whither they arrived one sultry 
afternoon with a smell of rain in the air. Tommy 
went to work like an old hand on the desert. Bill 
watched him unobtrusively and decided that the 
storekeeper had shown pretty good judgment. 
Wliile they were unpacking the burros. Tommy 
cocked an eye at the sullen clouds that tore them¬ 
selves on Parowan Peak only to mend immedi¬ 
ately and crowd lower down the slope, and began 
gathering heavy rocks which he piled in a row 
on the lower edge of BilPs tent, and to test the 
guy ropes and drive the pegs deeper. 

She’s a cloud-burst cornin’, er I never seen 
wan,” he observed complainingly, when he was 
again lugging the supplies into the tent. * ^ Them 
taties c’d stay outside, but watter will cause the 
bacon t’ mold, Mr. Dale. An’ beans is never the 
same, wancet they’ve been wrinkled wit’ rain wat¬ 
ter an’ dried agin. I dunno, but that’s been my 
experience wit’ grub. I’d git it all under cover, 
if it was mine, Mr. Dale.” 

52 


Strangers in Camp 

Does look bad, for a fact,’’ Bill admitted. ‘‘ I 
was going up to the workings; but I reckon we’d 
better make camp snug. Now, Hez, what’ll hap¬ 
pen if you bust a lung? What’s on your fool 
mind? ” 

Hez appeared to have a good deal on his mind. 
Presently his excitement was explained by four 
loaded burros laboring up the draw, followed by 
three men who hurried the animals up the uneven 
slope. Bill frowned when he saw them, wonder¬ 
ing if they had followed him. 

But the men were strangers to him. If they 
came from Goldfield, he thought, they must have 
hurried, — because Bill himself had made the trip 
in record time. He nodded as they came up, and 
sent the impolite Hezekiah into the tent with his 
hindquarters drooping guiltily. Two of the men 
had the look of mining engineers (for your desert 
dwellers learn to judge a man’s profession by the 
way he dresses and carries himself on the desert). 
The third, who evidently had charge of the bur¬ 
ros, had ‘‘desert rat” written all over him. 

“ Spring up here still workin’, mister? ” the 
burro driver asked in a flat voice raised shrilly 
by way of attaining some volume. “ Used to be 
a spring up here. ’ ’ 

“ The spring is still there,” Bill replied neu¬ 
trally. 


53 


The Parowan Bonanza 

A pleasant, short man came forward, smiling 
and holding out his hand, never doubting his wel¬ 
come. 

Glad to see you, sir. My name is Rayfield; 
Walter B. Rayfield. My partner, here, is John 
S. Emmett, a mining expert of whom you may 
have heard, if you’re the mining man you look 
to be. Working for the government, making a 
report of the gold, silver and copper possibilities 
of Nevada. I examine the country for gold and 
silver, and Emmett, here, takes care of the cop¬ 
per report. WeVe been allotted w^hat is called 
the Furnace Creek quadrangle. We’re working 
the northern part first, so as to have cooler 
weather for the Death Valley neighborhood.” 

Glad to meet you.” Bill’s handshake was 
cordial, with a certain reticence behind it. Hap¬ 
py-go-lucky as he seemed. Bill Dale was slow in 
choosing his friends, while acquaintances never 
got below the surface of his mind. ^ ‘ My name is 
Dale; Bill for short. Hopeful Bill for sarcasm. 
You’re just ahead of a big storm, by the looks, 
Mr. Rayfield.” 

‘‘Yes, it does look like rain.” Mr. Rayfield 
glanced at the heavy clouds that were now hiding 
the peak. “We expect to camp here for a while, if 
the spring is all right. Glad to have a neighbor. 
Most of the time we have to put up with our own 

54 


Strangers in Camp 

company. Well, Al, suppose you find a place 
for camp. You’ll have to hustle, my man, if 
we’re to get our tents up before it rains.” 

‘‘ You’ve a nice little camp here,” the man in¬ 
troduced as Emmet observed, his hard brown eyes 
taking in the surroundings appraisingly. It’s 
certainly a great view you have here. We saw 
your tent from miles away, down there. ’ ’ 

You came from Vegas way, then,” Bill stated 
calmly. From that direction only could they see 
his camp from any distance; the Goldfield trail 
twisted around the mountain. 

We started from Las Vegas. We’ve been out 
some time, though. Came down Forty Mile 
Canyon to the main road and followed that as far 
as we could.” He pulled a pipe from his pocket 
and began filling it in leisurely fashion from a 
leather pouch while his gaze traveled sophisti- 
catedly over the surrounding hills. 

Prospecting, I suppose? ” His eyes came 
back to Bill’s face. His tone had the casual note 
of one who wishes to be civil. 

Yes, a little,” Bill replied guardedly. Even 
to research men he did not feel like telling all he 
knew. She’s a hard country to prospect in, 
though. Too much overburden. But I like the 
formation here. Seems to me there’s a chance 

55 


The Parowan Bonanza 

here to run on to something, if a fellow keeps right 
after it.’^ 

I see already why they call you Hopeful 
Bill,’^ Mr. Emmett grinned over his pipe. I 
don^t think it’s sarcasm, though.” He gave an¬ 
other professional glance at the rough outcrop¬ 
pings near them. ‘‘ Looks pretty fair, but my 
specialty is copper. Doesn’t seem very prom¬ 
ising for that — but one never can tell. You’re 
looking for gold, I take it. That’s more in Ray- 
field’s line.” 

I’m looking for anything I can find,” Bill 
corrected lazily. Anything ‘from gold to dia¬ 
monds ; just so there’s money in it. ’ ’ 

The fitful breeze died suddenly to an ominous, 
stifling calm. The copper expert glanced up at 
the slatey mass moving up from the west and 
went to help the others set up the tent before the 
storm broke. 

Want any help? ” Bill called after him. But 
Mr. Emmett shook his head, waved a hand and 
went on. 

Tommy, who had retreated into the tent as the 
party drew near, pushed his head through the 
opening and goggled at the group fifty yards 
away. They were spreading a wall tent, prepar¬ 
ing to make camp in the lee of a rocky ledge. 
Tommy wiped the tobacco stain from his lips 

56 


Strangers in Camp 

with the back of his hand and glanced sidelong 
up at Bill. 

That’s A1 Freeman they got wit’ ’em,” he 
drawled in his complaining, questioning way. 
‘‘ An’ how he c’d git wit’ ’em I dunno, fer I left 
him in Goldfield — I did — and him owin’ me 
tin dollars and denying all knowledge of that 
same. He’s a liar an’ a t’ief, Mr. Dale, an’ them 
that trusts him is like t’ find their t’roats cut 
some marrnin’ an’ their pockets turned out. 

How he got to Las Vegas t’ join up with 
these fellers I dunno — fer he was in Goldfield 
whin I left, and there can’t be two of ’im — an’ 
the devil mt’ his hands full a’ready just wit’ wan 
of ’im. I’d tip off them gov-ment men, Mr. Dale, 
I sure would. He’s worse ner a rattler in camp, 
an’ he’s the kind that’ll lie wit’ ’is ears open an’ 
then run an’ make bad use o’ what he hears, Mr. 
Dale. He’s a durrty claim-robber fer wan t’ing, 
an’ if yuh’ve got annything here wort’ robbin’, 
Mr. Dale, yuh’d best set yer tent over it whilst A1 
Freeman’s on the mountain. It’s the Gawd’s 
trut ’ I tellin ’ yuh — an ’ yuh better slip them ex¬ 
perts the word — though how he got wit’ ’em 
I dunno, fer I left him in Goldfield; I did that! ” 

That’s mighty queer,” Bill assented dubi¬ 
ously. If you’re sure of that, we’ll step lightly 
till we know the bunch better. Keep your eye on 

57 


The Parowan Bonanza 

him, Tommy, until I find out more about it. They 
won’t get that tent up in time to save a wetting; 
I can see that right now.” 

The man Tommy said was A1 had unpacked one 
burro, but it was certain they would not have 
time to make themselves even passably com¬ 
fortable. Even now the tent they were erecting 
was bellying like a balloon in a sudden blast of 
wind, and while they struggled with it pegs and 
guy ropes snapped loose. The short man, whose 
name was Eayfield, evidently made a suggestion. 
All three looked toward Bill’s camp. Then, as 
the earth quivered under a deafening crash of 
thunder, A1 hurriedly tied the burros to a couple 
of stunted junipers, wadded the tent hastily into 
an ungainly bundle and trust it between two 
rocks. 

Heads down against the wind, holding their 
hats on with both hands, they came running. Bill 
opened the tent flaps and held it against the wind 
until the strangers and Tommy were inside. 
Then he double-tied the flaps and turned, grinning 
hospitably. His twelve-by-fourteen tent was 
more than comfortably full now, what with the 
piles of supplies. Bill’s stove and table and bed, 
and the five men. But it was a shelter, set 
shrewdly against just such an emergency as this 

58 


Strangers in Camp 

storm. It faced away from the wind, and a ledge 
protected it from the full force of the gale. 

Thunder, lightning, wind — then an abrupt 
silence, a holding of the breath. Tommy, 
crouched do^vn in his corner, his shoulder hold 
carefully away from the canvas wall, stared owl¬ 
like through his thick glasses. 

‘‘ She’s cornin’,” he mumbled dolefully. 

She came. All the water in the clouds seemed 
to have been dumped unceremoniously upon the 
tent. A fine mist beat through the roof and sides 
until warp and woof became saturated, and 
shrunk to a waterproof texture that sent the 
water running otf in streams. 

‘ ^ She’s a cloud-burst — I said she’d be a cloud¬ 
burst! ” Tommy muttered again in melancholy 
triumph. 

You didn’t get here any too soon,” Bill ob¬ 
served cheerfully. It would be pretty tough, 
climbing through this. You’re lucky.” 

‘‘We certainly are!” Mr. Bayfield’s voice 
was raised almost to a shout, to carry above the 
storm. “ Wouldn’t want to be caught out in 
this! ” 

They sat and listened to it, — the boom and 
crash of the thunder, the vivid flashes that light¬ 
ened blindingly the gloom of the tent, the roar of 
the falling water. 


59 


The Parowan Bonanza 

She’s a tough one, all right! ” Bill rose and 
pried open the flaps with his fingers, and put an 
eye to the crack. Now I know how old Noah 
felt when he shut the door of the ark. Nothing 
in sight but water — good Lord! ” 

Something sagged against the tent, beat upon 
the taut canvas. A voice was raised shrilly, 
frantically. 

‘ ^ Bill! Oh, Bill! Let me in! ” 

Bill’s face had whitened at the first sound. His 
fingers clawed at the stiff, canvas knots that held 
the flaps shut. His hands, reaching out to loosen 
the outside fastenings, touched other fingers that 
tore nervously at the soaked knots. Bill was 
hampered by those other fingers, as a swimmer is 
hampered by the frenzied clutchings of a drown¬ 
ing man. But he managed the two lower fasten¬ 
ings and was beginning on the upper when the 
person outside stooped and ducked in past Bill’s 
knees. 

Doris- Miss Hunter! What-” 

Oh, it’s perfectly awful! I thought I’d never 
make it. Bill. I couldn’t make the horses face it, 
so I tied them down the gulch and came on afoot. 
I could see your tent when it lightened — I’m 
just soaked! It’s the worst storm this year.” 

She was talking in gasping little rushes of 
words, talking because she must have some emo- 

60 




Strangers in Camp 

tional outlet. Her hat had gone in the wind, and 
she wiped the water from her face with quick, 
impatient brushes of‘her palms outward from her 
nose. Herliair was wet as a drowned woman’s, 
and as lank about her face and shoulders. She 
wore a khaki riding skirt and a striped cotton 
blouse that clung to her shoulders and arms like 
wet paper. Her high-laced boots squelched sop¬ 
pily when she moved. Had she been pulled from 
a river she could not have been wetter. 

Tommy, start a fire in the stove; you’re the 
closest,” Bill commanded. Miss Hunter, let me 
introduce some other storm birds — only they 
were luckier than you were. They beat it in. 
This is Mr. Bayfield, and Mr. Emmett — both 
government experts making an examination of the 
country for mineral. That’s A1 Freeman over 
there; working for them ” (Mr. Bayfield looked 
surprised) and Tommy, over there by the stove, 
is going to work for me. Get over there in the 
corner and dry out. It’ll be hot in a minute. You 
must be chilled.” 

The men moved back to leave clear passage to 
the stove, and she hurried toward it, nodding to 
them shyly as she went. Mr. Bayfield smiled 
upon her benignantly and drew a box from under 
the table for her to sit on. 

Take off those wet boots, Miss Hunter, and 

61 


The Parowan Bonanza 

put your feet in the oven, ’ ’ he commanded, in the 
same tone which he might have used to his own 
daughter. ^ ^ A cup of coffee 'will take the chill out 
of your bones. My, my! I Ve heard that it could 
rain pitchforks in this country, but nobody men¬ 
tioned raining angels! His own hearty laugh 
robbed the remark of any offensive familiarity, 
as he picked a blanket off the bunk—-disturbing 
Mr. Emmett and A1 Freeman to do so — and laid 
it matter-of-factly upon her shoulders. 

‘ ‘ Here, let me unlace your boots. Tommy, get 
the coffee pot working. Bill knelt and rever¬ 
ently lifted her small, booted foot to his knee. 

Mr. Emmett, if you 11 pass that war-bag over 
here. Ill dig up some dry socks. And if you 11 
remember to hold out your arms. Miss Hunter, so 
you wonl fall in outa sight. Ill lend you a pair 
of my boots. Or maybe we could tie a loop under 
your arms and hitch you somehow. Anyway, 
well fix you up comfortably as we can. 

Miss Hunter laughed, which was exactly what 
Bill had intended that she should do. If every 
little happy nerve in his big body tingled while 
he unlaced her boots, that was his own business 
and none of his neighbors! He did not mean to 
have Doris Hunter experience one moment ^s em¬ 
barrassment if he could help it. 

With a fine tact for which Bill was silently 

62 


Strangers in Camp 

grateful, the two government men resumed their 
casual talk of the storm and of the desert, — the 
small talk of the region which is useful for tilling 
in the awkward spots in strange situations. 
Tommy busied himself with a ham, a few cans 
and the cotfee pot, and said not a word. A1 
Freeman, over by the door, made himself as in¬ 
conspicuous as possible, — perhaps for reasons 
which Tommy could guess. 

Bill casually turned his back upon Miss Hunter 
and the stove and stood there with his hands in 
his pockets and his legs slightly apart, throwing 
a sentence now and then into the talk of the 
others. 

Thus hidden away in the corner, ignored for 
the time being, Doris Hunter pulled the blanket 
tighter around her slim person, and fumbled 
within its shelter. She was a sensible girl, and 
she had lived all of her twenty years on the edge 
of the desert, and knew nothing much about cads 
and crooks. So presently her khaki skirt was 
spread over her knees to dry, and she was holding 
the blanket open to dry the rest of her. And not 
a man of the five noticed the skirt, or paid any at¬ 
tention to her whatever. 

But when Tommy said supper was ready. Bill 
moved from his position as screen, and pulled up 
a box to hold the girPs plate and cup so that she 

63 


The Parowan Bonanza 

could eat mthout moving away from the stove. 
It was casually done; so casually that it would not 
have cost a nun the quiver of an eyelash. Cer¬ 
tainly Miss Hunter felt no confusion, for pres¬ 
ently she was chatting quite as composedly as if 
she were at home with her family around her. 

It rapidly grew dark, the lightning coming at 
more infrequent intervals as the do^vnpour con¬ 
tinued. Bill found a lantern, lighted it and hung 
it on a wire hook from the ridgepole, where it 
swayed to the spasmodic shuddering of the tent. 
Miss Hunter turned and turned her skirt, and Bill 
watched her boots that they did not dry too 
quickly. There seemed nothing unusual in this 
foregathering, which was but one more incident 
of the wilderness. 


✓ 


64 


CHAPTER SIX 


BILL GKOWS SENTIMENTAL 

‘‘ Bill, you haven’t asked me if I were lost or 
just going somewhere,” Miss Hunter accused 
suddenly, setting down her cup which she had 
twice emptied of coffee. You ought to be 
ashamed of yourself. Any one else would have 
asked me that before I got the water out of my 
eyes.” 

Well — are you lost, or just going some- 
wdiere? ” Bill inquired obediently. I’ve known 
this young lady a good long while,” he added to 
the others, glad of the opportunity. She rides 
the range right alongside her dad, and can sling 
a pack or rope a critter better than lots of men 
that draw wages for doing it. She couldn’t get 
lost to save her neck. Looking for cow brutes 
or horses. Miss Hunter? ” 

Neither one. And don’t call me Miss when 
I’ve been Doris all my life. These gentlemen 
don’t demand the starch in your speech, and I 
know it. Dad sent me over to see if you’d come 
and help him out for awhile. He’s going to run 

65 


The Parowan Bonanza 

the water by a tunnel through that little ridge 
back of the corrals, and water the lower meadow 
directly from the spring. It will save at least 
an inch ’’ (she referred to a miner^s inch of 
water, which is a cubic measurement) that’s 
lost now in seepage as it’s carried around the hill. 

‘ ‘ He’s been sort of looking for you over to the 
ranch. But you didn’t show up, so he sent me over 
to see if you’d drive the tunnel for him. He 
thinks your cautious disposition will make the 
blasting safe for the cattle, I reckon. Anyway, 
that’s what 1 came for, and the storm did the rest. 
I guess the horses will be all right, but if they 
ever get loose they’ll beat it for home — and that 
will worry the folks. I brought old Rambler with 
my camp outfit, and of course I rode Little 
Dorrit.” 

My, my, if some of the young ladies back in 
Washington could hear you talk so calmly of 
traveling the desert alone with your own camp 
outfit! ” Mr. Bayfield pursed his lips and then 
smiled at her. Mr. Bayfield was disfigured some¬ 
what by a milky film over one eye, but for all that 
his face was a pleasant one that made friends for 
him easily. 

“ If you folks can make out with a candle,” 
said Bill, I’ll take the lantern and go see about 

66 


Bill Grows Sentimental 

the horses. I can bring them up closer to camp, 
maybe-^ ’ 

You’ll do nothing of the kind, Bill Dale. 
Don’t you suppose I made sure they would stay 
tied? Or do you think I like to take a chance on 
being set afoot ? I was, once. That was a plenty, 
thank you. You stay right where you are.” 

Bill chuckled but declined to commit himself by 
any promise. Torrents of rain still pounded 
upon the roof with the hollow sound of a kettle¬ 
drum beaten at a distance. Like all the passion¬ 
ate outbursts in which Nature indulges through¬ 
out her desert lands, this was likely to be almost 
as brief as it was violent. Bill knew well the way 
of these sudden storms and did not worry over 
the immediate future. The present was suffi¬ 
ciently engrossing, and he was not loath to obey 
the command of his queen. 

Having Doris Hunter there beside his stove, 
her boots drying beside his fire, her eyes meeting 
his with a smile in them now and then, her voice 
a melody he loved against the drumming accom¬ 
paniment of the storm, was like a dream come 
true. Never before had Doris Hunter come to his 
camp fire save in his most secret dreams. Never 
before had she needed him, felt the comfort of 
his presence, his protection. It was well that 
these men were all strangers to Bill, — else they 

67 



The Parowan Bonanza 

might have read his secret in the shine of his eyes, 
the steady flush on his cheek bones, the smile that 
came twitching the comers of his lips at the 
slightest provocation. 

If Doris saw, she gave no sign. Outwardly Bill 
held himself rigidly to the usual friendliness of a 
man who has known a girl since she was a little 
thing just past babyhood, eager to ride on his 
shoulder with her heels drumming his chest. His 
manner was indulgent, almost paternal. He did 
not look at her often, he did not need to look at 
her; indeed, he did not dare. To know that she 
was there, close beside him, was like drinking 
wine. 

Storm’s letting up fast,” he announced at 
length, his face raised, his eyes dwelling specu¬ 
latively upon the roof. I guess we’re all tired 
enough to get under the covers — and I hope you 
won’t take that as a hint to you fellows to go home 
to your own camp, ’ ’ he drawled meaningly. ^ ^ I ’ll 
bunk with you to-night. Tommy, and let Miss Hun¬ 
ter have this tent. She’s tired. I’ve caught her 
nodding twice in the last five minutes.” 

Oh, it’s just the heat,” Doris protested 
briskly. I — really. Bill, I can’t turn you out 
of your tent! I’ve my own outfit, you know, just 
down the gulch.” 

Yours isn’t set up,” Bill pointed out to her 

68 


Bill Grows Sentimental 

calmly. ‘‘ These fellows got here some time be¬ 
fore the storm broke. And Tommy has his tent, 
so it’s not putting me out. I’ll leave you Luella 
and Sister Mitchell and Hez for company. Oh, 
they’re all at home,” he answered her look of 
inquiry. They hate rain, and they’ve hunted 
cover. Well, fellows? ” 

Obediently the two experts turned toward the 
doorway. A1 Freeman had already untied the 
flaps and ducked out into the dark and the drizzle. 
Mr. Eayfield apologized weakly for keeping late 
hours, and herded the sour-faced Emmett out be¬ 
fore him. Bill waited until they were gone. 

‘‘ I want you to keep Hez inside,” he told Doris 
then, his voice lowered. These fellows are all 
right, probably, but I don’t know them. And 
here’s my gun. If you just call me, though. I’ll 
hear and come a-running.” 

He started out, then turned and smiled at her 
whimsically. ‘ ‘ There’s a bundle of new blankets 
in that comer,” he informed her. Never been 
opened up. Help yourself. Good night.” 

Over by the junipers Bill could hear the mutter 
of voices. He turned that way and presently came 
upon the three, fumbling with wet pack ropes and 
swearing softly at the rain pattering down upon 
them. Talk ceased entirely when Bill approached. 

Hard luck, folks,” he sympathized cheerfully. 

69 


The Parowan Bonanza 

^ ‘ But not a darn bit harder than if you hadn’t run 
across my camp at all. I’m sorry you got here 
so late. Want any help I ” 

They did not, but Bill remained and did what 
he could to help them raise the wet tent and get 
their stuff inside. They would not be comfortable, 
but they would be quite as comfortable as he 
would be. 

We Ve got some tent-raising to do ourselves,” 
he told them cheerfully, when he could do no 
more. It’ll let up raining after a bit, I think. 
Come over to my camp for breakfast. I’ll sling 
together some pancakes that’ll melt in your 
mouths. And I’ve got a gallon of alleged maple 
syrup to swim ’em in. Life will look a thousand 
per cent, better, to-morrow morning.” 

Oh, life looks all right to us now,” Mr. Ray- 
field protested. This is nothing — nothing at 
all. Don’t apologize, Mr. Dale. Of course the 
young lady needed the tent; wouldn’t think of 
such a thing as — but we’ll just call you on that 
breakfast bluff — pancakes, maple syrup and 
all! ” 

You’re on,” said Bill, and went back to help 
Tommy find his bedding and tent. 

Tommy was ignoring his own troubles in a 
chortling glee at A1 Freeman’s discomfort. 

An’ that’s where he got ’is come-uppance,” 

70 


Bill Grows Sentimental 

he gloated. A1 planned it t^ bunk in a warrm 
tent without settin^ up his own t'night! " He 
tittered while he groped for ten pegs. That 
tent-settin' b'foor the starrm was a farce, as you 
know yerself, Mr. Dale. He's up to something 
sure as yuh live — and phwat it is I dunno, but 
I sleeps wit' wan eye open this night — I do." 

It is likely that he did just that, as did Bill, 
lying so that he could peer out through the open¬ 
ing of Tommy's little tent and see his own bulk¬ 
ing vaguely in the dark and drizzle. Hezekiah, 
shut inside, would haVe lunged at the throat of 
any stranger who sought entrance in the dark, 
and Doris Hunter did not need even that protec¬ 
tion, since she probably carried her own gun and 
would know what use to make of it in an emer¬ 
gency. 

But Bill discounted those things and himself 
kept watch; and smiled for sheer happiness while 
he pulled Tommy's soggy blankets over his shoul¬ 
ders. In the dark, so close in the dark — serene 
in the knowledge of her safety, the girl he loved 
lay asleep, her head touching the pillow where 
his head had lain while he dreamed of her. To¬ 
morrow she would go again. All the to-morrows 
thereafter Bill would have only the memory of 
her presence here to-night. But to-night he could 
lie and know that she was there, — and what fool 

71 


The Parowan Bonanza 

would waste the hours in sleep, when he might 
lie awake and think, and thrill at the sense of her 
nearness? 

He wondered what she would say when he 
showed her his gold discovery; told her, too 
that she owned a claim quite as good as his. He 
hoped that the deluge of rain had not filled his 
cut and covered his vein of rich ore. But even if 
it had, there were his samples in the corner of the 
tent behind the door; and it would not take him 
and Tommy long to uncover the vein again. 

He thought uneasily of the government men 
camped so close. Not that he was afraid of any¬ 
thing they might do; indeed, he could not imagine 
anything that could rob him now of his claims. 
He had located according to law, and his loca¬ 
tion work was done and on record in Goldfield. 
It was A1 Freeman who troubled him; not alone 
because of what Tommy had said (he suspected 
Tommy of being an arrant gossip and not too 
gentle with men^s reputations behind their backs) 
hut because A1 looked the sneak, acted the sneak, 
and undoubtedly was the sneak Tommy had de¬ 
clared him to be. 

Still, there was nothing a sneak could do to 
harm him. Even if he were killed, — he thought 
swiftly of something he must do, and he smiled 
tenderly at the grayish blotch in the drizzling 

72 


Bill Grows Sentimental 

dark. He must make his will, so that if anything 
happened to him, Doris would have the claims. 
There was no one else. His father had been the 
last relative he knew anything about. Distant 
ones — cousins — they didnT count. 

No, Doris Hunter stood closer to him than any 
one else. He wasn’t going to die yet awhile, but 
still accidents could happen, he admitted to him¬ 
self. There must be no slip-up, no last-minute 
regrets. Mining is always more or less risky. If 
he went out, then Doris must have the Parowan 
group. And as for the rest. Bill did not worry. 

He fell asleep finally, thinking that these ex« 
perts might be able to give him some good advice. 
There was no sense in trying to keep his discov- 
ery a secret from them. They meant to examine 
Parowan’s mineral possibilities, and they would 
inevitably run across his claims. But he would 
not be in too great a hurry. First, he would tell 
Doris. It seemed to him a miracle of good for¬ 
tune that had brought her to Parowan at that'’par¬ 
ticular time, when he was aching to tell her and 
yet could not leave his claims and let A1 Freeman 
— yes, and perhaps Tommy as well — high- 
grade” his gold the minute his back was turned. 
Now he could show Doris, which was better than 
telling. And — the world could go hang, for all 
Bill cared. 


73 



CHAPTER SEVEN 


WHAT DRIVES PROSPECTORS CRAZY 

After all it was Doris Hunter who called break¬ 
fast while Bill was yet busy with her horses and 
Tommy was profanely spreading damp blankets 
upon dry rocks that would presently be hot to the 
palm, when the sun had stared down at them for 
a few hours. 

There were hot cakes as good as Bill could have 
made, and bacon and coffee and potatoes sliced 
raw and fried just right. The eyes of Mr. Ray- 
field glistened when he saw them, and Bill drew 
his underlip between his teeth when he looked at 
the girPs flushed face bent solicitously over the 
coffee she was pouring; it was so like a daydream 
come true that he could scarcely trust himself to 
speak, for fear his tone would not be so normal 
as he meant it to be. But he had his part to 
play nevertheless. 

Morning! I meant to get breakfast myself, 
but I didnT want to get you out too early. You 
had a hard trip-’ ’ 

Oh, fudge! That wasn^t a commencement to 

74 




What Drives Prospectors Crazy 

being caught out in a blizzard. Luella woke me 
about daylight. She came crawling up on the 
pillow, and the first I heard was ‘ What the ^ — 
something — in the most surprised tone you ever 
heard.’’ Doris laughed at the memory of it. 

Imagine hearing a man’s voice saying that in 
your very ear when you’re dreaming about put¬ 
ting up peaches! And that reminds me, Bill. 
Mother sent over a jar of preserves. If you’ll 
watch these cakes. I’ll get them out of the pack. 
I saw you had brought up the horses. Sit right 
down and eat, folks, I won’t be a minute.” 

Bill’s table was small, but Doris had somehow 
crowded a sufficient number of plates and cups 
upon it. Mr. Eayfield voiced his opinion of her 
efficiency as he seated himself on Bill’s neatly 
spread bunk and drew the potatoes toward him¬ 
self. 

My, my, what a difference there is in women 
nowadays!” he said cheerfully. ‘‘Take these 
Western-raised girls — you can’t match them 
anywhere in the world for downright com¬ 
mon sense and capableness. Seems to be a 
great climate for the growth of brain. Now a 
city girl out in a storm like that — well,” he 
chuckled, “ think of the hundreds of plays and 
stories that have been built around the fainting 
forms of beautiful maidens carried in from right 

75 


The Parowan Bonanza 

center, just rescued by the hero from the failing 
dew! And here^s a girl can come out of it smil¬ 
ing, with a breakfast fit for a steel king! Mr. 
Dale, if you can beat these cakes. Ill resign from 
government employ and be your burro puncher 
for life! ’’ 

Into the responsive laugh walked Doris with a 
quart jar of peach preserves carried proudly in 
her two hands. 

I heard that about the cakes, Mr. Bayfield,’^ 
she announced gravely. And all I can say is, 
you come down to the ranch where we have real 
milk, and thick yellow cream,.and fresh eggs. Ifil 
show ^vhat hot cakes can be like! ’ ’ 

Mr. Emmett, pulling a box out of a corner for 
a seat, had stooped and picked up something from 
the ground, — something which the edge of the 
box had dragged forward. He turned it to the 
side where the sun was shining brightly on the 
canvas wall and examined the piece of ore 
interestedly. 

^ ^ Good-looking rock, that, ^ ’ he observed, glanc¬ 
ing up at Bill. ‘‘ Didn^t pick it up in this neigh¬ 
borhood, did you? ’’ 

Bill slanted a glance at the rock, and another at 
the sly, watchful eyes of A1 Freeman. Mr. Em¬ 
mett was holding in his fingers a bit of the richest 
ore Bill had taken from his vein on Parowan 

76 


What Drives Prospectors Crazy 

Number One. He bad concealed it under some 
sacks in the corner, and its appearance at the 
breakfast table was, to say the least, inopportune. 

That? That’s a specimen I’ve been packing 
around for luck,” he said carelessly. ‘‘ Wish I 
had a mountain of it; then I could have fresh 
eggs and cream for breakfast too.” 

Mr. Emmett laid the rich specimen in Ray- 
field’s outstretched hand and seated himself on 
the box, his hard, brown eyes glancing sharply 
now and then at Bill. Mr. Rayfield set down his 
cup of coffee and pursed his lips over the sample. 
His pleasant face glowed with professional ad^ 
miration for a pretty bit of ore. 

‘‘Yes-s — a mountain of that would insure a 
man against canned milk for fife! ” he chuckled. 

If you had even a good vein of ore like that, Mr. 
Dale, your friends would need to pray that mil¬ 
lions wouldn’t make you money-mad.” 

Doris held out her hand for it, and Mr. Ray- 
field smiled as he placed it in her palm. He did 
not say anything at all. 

Doris bent her brown head over the sample, 
then looked up quickly at Bill, her eyes wide and 
questioning. 

0-oh — that’s gold — is that gold. Bill? All 
those yellow patches? It — it doesn’t look just 
like pyrites-” 


77 



The Parowan Bonanza 

“ That’s gold, Doris.” To save his life Bill 
could not have kept the tenderness, the deep 
exultation out of his voice. 

‘‘Gold! Why, it — it’s almost solid gold! 
Why, where-’ ’ 

Bill pulled himself together, laughed lazily and 
helped himself to the fried potatoes. 

“ That’s what drives prospectors crazy,” he 
drawled. “ Looking for more of the same. You 
keep that, Doris, if you like it. If I ever get hold 
of enough of that. I’ll call it a mine.” He laughed 
again disarmingly. “ You know folks call me 
Hopeful BiU,” he added quaintly, 

“ Yiou’d be Sure-thing Bill, if you ever found 
a mine of that,** Mr. Bayfield’s good eye dwelt 
hungrily upon the sample. “ I suppose you’re on 
the trail of it. You wouldn’t be human if you 
weren’t looking for more of the same. Well, I 
hope you locate it. I do, for a fact. I know I 
wouldn’t rest until I located that.” 

Bill’s laugh betrayed nothing more than amuse¬ 
ment, but his eyes forgot to twinkle. They were 
fixed rather intently on Mr. Bayfield’s smooth, 
smiling face. 

‘ ‘ And when you had it located — then what 
would you do ? ” 

“ Do? ” Mr. Bayfield looked up, astonished. 
“ What would a man do, with a gold mine like 

78 



What Drives Prospectors Crazy 

that? He returned to the spreading of peach 
preserves carefully between two hot cakes. Or¬ 
ganize a company and avail myself of the most 
modem methods of mining it. A good, clean cor¬ 
poration, Mr. Dale, is the most efficient, the most 
satisfactory methods I know of to-day. I cer¬ 
tainly would organize at once and start out right 
to get the gold cheaply as possible and market the 
product as profitably as possible. There is no 
other intelligent method, these days.^^ 

Mr. Emmett looked up dissentingly. There 
you go on your hobby,’’ he remarked. The 
country’s been done to death with wild-cat or¬ 
ganizations that found a showing of mineral and 
hustled a corporation together. Look at the com¬ 
panies we’ve been sent to investigate, Walter! I 
should think that would sicken you of corpora¬ 
tions.” 

We investigated a lot of crooked corpora¬ 
tions, yes.” Mr. Bayfield admitted it calmly. 
‘‘We helped the government send more than one 
bunch of crooked officers to the penitentiary — 
where they belong. But crooks always will take 
advantage of the best machinery invented, John. 
And those very investigations taught me the de¬ 
tails of organizing and operating corporations. 
They proved to me that a man is a fool to potter 
along by himself with any mine — I don’t care 

79 


The Parowan Bonanza 

how rich it is! You can’t work a mine as you 
would a farm. Why? Because your potential 
harvest is all there, in the gTound, waiting for you 
to gather it. A farm yields its wealth season by 
season — on the installment plan, we’ll say. 
Whereas the mineral in a mine is there; all of it. 
It was put there long before it was ever discov¬ 
ered. The faster and the cheaper you take it 
out, the greater your profit. That stands to rea¬ 
son. What man of intelligence would spend ten, 
twenty years, we’ll say, taking out a million dol¬ 
lars, when an efficient corporation will get it for 
him in less than half that time ? ’ ’ 

He held up his cup for more coffee and smiled 
blandly at Doris, who was listening to him with 
flattering attention. 

Miss Hunter, you see the point, don’t you? 
I’ll venture to say that you’d want your millions 
dug out by machinery, in the shortest time pos¬ 
sible.” 

Doris laughed and looked again at the gold ore 
beside her plate. 

If I knew where there was a lot of that in 
the ground, and you could get a million dollars 
worth of it out in fifteen minutes,” she said, I’d 
— why, I’d probably stand around and abuse you 
because you weren’t getting my million in ten 
minutes instead of fifteen! ” She blushed a little 

80 


What Drives Prospectors Crazy 

as she met Mr. Rayfield^s understanding smile. 

That’s just human nature, isn’t it? ” 

That’s human nature.” Mr. Eayfield 
sugared his coffee with the satisfied air of a man 
who has gained his point with less difficulty than 
he had anticipated. 

Then appeared Luella, walking offendedly out 
from under Bill’s bunk, where she had retreated 
from the presence of strangers. 

‘‘ Aw, cut it out! ” Luella complained gruffly, 

Let’s eat! Git a move on, there! ” 

And here we are, trying to starve poor LueL 
la! ” Doris stooped to her, and the bird eyed her 
hand sidewise and decided to trust it for once. 
She stepped solemnly upon the slim, brown wrist 
and so was lifted to a perch on the foot of the 
bunk where she gravely accepted a slice of fried 
potato. The advantages of a corporation over 
an individual miner got no further attention from 
any one, for a parrot is very much like a baby in 
its unfailing ability to monopolize attention. 
Luella would not talk, save now and then a curt 
ejaculation that was hailed with laughter. She 
was a temperamental bird and her manners were 
inhospitable; for which Bill was vaguely thankful. 

Furthermore, he was grateful when Doris pro¬ 
ceeded as a matter of course to clear away the 
breakfast. That little hint of hers, of rising and 

81 


The Parowan Bonanza 

picking Tip BilPs plate and cup, scattered the 
group. They went, ducking their heads under the 
flaps, and Bill followed them with the thought in 
his mind that he would see the three strangers 
safely off about their business before he made any 
move toward his own claims with Doris. 

But the jovial Mr. Bayfield stuck to him like a 
burr, talking idly of many things save mineral. 
Bill wondered what he had on his mind; and as 
soon as they were out of hearing of the others, 
Mr. Bayfield proceeded to the subject uppermost. 

Youfll pardon my apparent presumption, Mr. 
Dale, I know. We government fellows are in¬ 
structed to help miners in any way we can, and — 
well, this man of yours; have you had him with 
you long enough to be sure of him? 

I never, said Bill in his easy drawl, con¬ 
sider that I^m sure of any man. Why? And 
then he gave no time for an answer, but put a 
question of his own. 

How long have you had your pot-walloper? — 
if I may ask a question that’s none of my busi¬ 
ness.” 

A1 Freeman? We picked him up just the 
other day. Our cook that we hired in Las Vegas 
was taken sick just as we struck the highway down 
there. We laid over, and did what we could; but 
he wasn’t recovering, so when this A1 Freeman 

82 


What Drives Prospectors Crazy 

came along with three other men in a car, headed 
for Las Vegas, we just made an exchange. Sent 
our man in to a doctor, and hired A1 in his place. 
He laid his fingers lightly on BilPs arm, and low¬ 
ered his voice confidentially. He told us last 
night that your man. Tommy, is one of the 
toughest men out of Goldfield. They call him 
Slippery Tom up there, I believe. A1 says he 
came near getting lynched, at one time — some 
murder and robbery, I believe. ’ ^ 

Then there’s a pair of them,” Bill observed 
imperturbably. ‘‘ APs a liar and a thief, accord¬ 
ing to Tommy.” 

Mr. Eayfield considered for a moment, then 
threw out his hands in a gesture of helplessness. 

Might be a good idea to watch ’em both, 
don’t you think? ” He chuckled. “ Pot is very 
likely calling the kettle black. And I don’t know 
of anything worth stealing in our camp. Just 
thought I’d give you a hint for what it may be 
worth, in case you don’t know your man. And 
we ’ll keep an eye on Al. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Aw, there’s nothing they can do — but earn 
their wages,” Bill dismissed the subject inditfer- 
ently. Time Tommy wrangles the burros and 
does the dirty work and slings a muck stick eight 
hours a day, crime won’t look half so good to him 

83 


The Parowan Bonanza 

as his blankets. Same with A1 Freeman, if you 
handle him right. 

Nevertheless, Bill stopped at the comer of the 
tent and unobtmsively watched Mr. Bayfield when 
he joined his companions. 

So far as he could determine, Mr. Bayfield was 
concerning himself at present with the prepara¬ 
tions for a day^s fieldwork. Emmett was already 
waiting with his sample bag over his shoulder, his 
canteen at his feet ready to pick up at the last 
minute. Al, apparently, would be left in camp. 
Bill turned suddenly and beckoned to Tommy, 
who was glumly examining a dull pick. 

You say you can sharpen steel, Tommy. Ifil 
just let you do a little blacksmithing, this fore¬ 
noon, while I show Miss Hunter a claim I located 
for her,’^ he said, when Tommy had come close. 
Then he lowered his voice. You can keep an 
eye on camp, too. I saw Al Freeman looking 
hungry at that sample of gold ore. Tommy. 
Youdl know what to do if he makes a break. 
Only — donT kill him. I don^t want to take in 
boarders, and those experts canT cook.^^ 

Idl watch fim, Mr. Dale. I will that! 

Bill grinned, took a last pull at his cigarette, 
and w^ent in to wipe the dishes for Doris and 
watch the dimple in her left cheek. 

And Destiny, that invisible, inscrutable com- 

84 


What Drives Prospectors Crazy 

panion whom men sometimes fear, sometimes 
curse and obey inevitably, smiled and waited to 
see how these souls would work out the problems 
she had set for them. 





85 


CHAPTER EIGHT 

‘ ‘ MONTE CRISTO WOULD ENJOY THIS ! ’ ’ 

The way this gulch is washed, I donT know 
whether I can show you anything or not,’^ Bill 
explained worriedly, preparing for a flat failure 
of his little plan. That was next thing to a 
cloud-burst last night, Doris — and Ifll own now 
that I was uneasy last night when you said you 
had left your horses down the gulch. But then, 
I knew you wouldn’t tie them in the bottom where 
they might get drowned out. ’ ’ 

‘‘ Well, I hope not,” Doris retorted with some 
asperity. No desert-bred girl likes to be thought 
ignorant of desert hazards. ‘‘ You’ll have to 
make this short, you know. They’ll expect me 
home early to-day. I don’t see why you can’t 
go. Now you’ve staked yourself to the luxury of 
a mucker, you can leave him in charge, I should 
think. Do you really think you’ve struck any¬ 
thing, Bill? ” 

^‘You wait. If my location cut isn’t filled in, I 
can show you in ten minutes. And — if it’s good, 

86 


“Monte Cristo Would Enjoy This!” 

you^re in on it. I located a claim on the same 
ledge in yonr name.’^ 

You did? Doris looked up at him quickly, 
but she could see only BilPs left cheek as he 
swung his face away from her. Why, why for 
me, particularly? I couldn^t develop it — dad 
wouldn’t let me. You ought to keep your claims 
for yourself. Bill. You — you’d ,give away your 
head, if you could get it otf! ” 

I might throw in the rest of me,” Bill hinted 
meaningly, his heart pounding like a single-jack 
in a miners’ contest. He stole a glance at her 
from the corner of his eye and was scared and a 
bit happy, too, at the flush on her cheek. 

‘‘Well, fortunately for you-” Doris bit 

her lip and left the sentence unfinished. She 
liked Bill Dale, but — there would always be un¬ 
finished sentences concerning her regard for him. 
A prospector is, paradoxically, not a good pros¬ 
pect for a girl. Doris had seen the poor, with¬ 
ered wives of miners who were forever just on 
the eve of striking something rich. 

Walking beside Bill, she thought of the wist¬ 
ful eyes and the draggled, cheap clothes of cer¬ 
tain women she had met. Some of them even 
wore overalls and helped dig. Bill had been pros¬ 
pecting ever since she first met him at a dance in 
Goldfield. He had talked optimistically of his 

87 




The Parowan Bonanza 

prospects then. He would always talk in the 
same vein. Always just going to strike rich ore, 
— never actually getting more than a bare living; 
if one could call grub and a tent a living. 

Fortunately for me — what? Bill was in 
the mood to bring about a crisis of some kind be¬ 
tween them. He considered that he had gone too 
far now to retreat. 

‘‘ Fortunately for you, your friends have more 
regard for you than you have for yourself,’’ Doris 
amended glibly. ‘‘ Is it much farther. Bill? Be¬ 
cause I really must ’ ’ 

It’s just up around this first turn.” Bill’s 
face sobered a bit. After all, Doris didn’t seem to 
care much, one way or the other. She didn’t seem 
very enthusiastic over her claim; didn’t she 
know he would take care of the development work 
for her — at least the assessment work? 

‘‘If a slide hasn’t covered it up,” he said 
heavily. ‘ ‘ I wanted to show you what I — what 
I’ve got. Then-’ ’ 

“ Well, you know I’m no expert. Bill,” Doris 
reminded him lightly. “I can tell silver — when 
it’s in spoons. And gold is jewelry-” 

Bill caught her arm, stopping her perforce. His 
grip left marks in her soft flesh. She looked at 
him, startled, and paled before the fixed stare in 
his eyes. He lifted a shaking finger and pointed. 

88 





“Monte Cristo Would Enjoy This!” 


BilPs cut in the side of the gulch had not been 
filled by any slide of the soft gravel higher up the 
slope. Instead it stood there naked, deep, clean 
as a dog^s tooth. Even from where they stood 
the metal gleamed yellow in the ten-inch vein of 
quartz laid bare to the sunlight. 

Slowly, almost reverently. Bill went forward, 
still holding the girPs arm in his strong, uncon¬ 
sciously painful grip. He led her into the cut, 
stooped and broke off a point of the vein with his 
fingers where his last shot had seamed the 
quartz. He laid the gold-flecked piece in her hand. 
He looked at her standing there so close with the 
symbol of a great fortune in her hand, — the sym¬ 
bol too of his worshipful love. 

Monte Cristo would enjoy this,^’ he said 
and laughed unsteadily. ^ ‘ It ^s — I found it — 
it^s yours — if youfll take me along with it. I 
couldn’t — I had to strike something before I 
could dare ’ ’ 

‘‘Is — is it — gold ?Doris whispered it 
awesomely. Looking up wide-eyed into his face. 
“ Oh —Bill! ” 

Bill took her in his arms, felt her yield, saw her 
head tilt back against his shoulder. He drew a 
deep breath that was like a sob, and bent and 
kissed her hair. 

Doris was looking from the gold-specked 

89 



The Parowan Bonanza 

quartz in lier hand to the gold-specked ridge lying 
naked to the sky. Her eyes were big and deep, 
like the blue of the sky. 

Do you love me, Doris? ’’ Bill dared to lean 
and speak his one absorbing hunger, his lips close 
to her ear. 

Yes — Oh, Bill, it doesn’t seem possible! I 
— I can’t realize it. Can you? Doris was star¬ 
ing still at the gold. 

^ ‘ It’s like a dream come true — a thousand 
times better than I’d ever dare to dream it. ’ ’ Bill 
was looking at the way the sunlight turned her 
brown hair to burnished copper, strand by strand. 
His voice broke. He laid his cheek against the 
copper shine. ‘‘ You love me! God, I was always 
scared to dream you ever would! ” 

Doris stirred in his arms. She was lifting the 
piece of ore, turning it this way and that, watch¬ 
ing it shine in the sun and in the shade alike. 
That was the test — pyrites wouldn’t shine in the 
shade. It was gold, absolutely it must be gold! 

‘‘Oh, Bill, aren’t you — excited?” She had 
turned so that she could look into his face. “ It’s 
an awfully rich strike, isn’t it? ” 

“Why — yes, I suppose it is.” Bill looked 
briefly at the vein. “Yes, it’s the richest stuff I 
ever saw in the ground. But it doesn’t mean any¬ 
thing to me, Doris, alongside your — love.” He 

90 


‘‘Monte Cristo Would Enjoy This!’' 


whispered the last word shyly against her cheek. 

You’ll marry me right away, won’t you, Doris? 
I’ve — wanted you so long; ever since that first 
time I met you. I’ve thought and dreamed about 
you — but it didn’t seem possible you could ever 
care. Only, I thought if I made a real stake, and 
you did like me well enough, I could give you 
everything in the world you wanted. It’s as you 
sa3^: I can’t realize it yet. I — wish you’d say 
it again; just once more. Do you — care? ” 

For answer Doris smiled up at him brilliantly. 
You great, big silly,” she said softly. 

Bill kissed her lips and wondered if a man 
could bear greater joy than was his. Not to have 
just weary, mshful dreams of her; to have Doris 
herself, her love, her willingness to trust herself 
to him. He felt humbled, ashamed of every little 
human, masculine fault. In one sweeping, swift 
repentance as he stood there, he resolved to at¬ 
tain perfection for her sake — or as near to per¬ 
fection as a man may approach. 

You know, daddy and mother will have to be 
asked before I can — promise absolutely,” she 
reminded him prudently. So let’s not talk 
about it any more just now. Bill.” 

Why, I — I coiddnH talk about it,” Bill said 
slowly. ‘‘ Some things go too deep. You just 

91 


The Parowan Bonanza 

can’t find any words; or I can’t. I’ll just have to 
prove as I go along — what it means to me. ^ ^ 

Just think, Bill! We could go to California, 
couldn’t we? ” Doris suggested inconsistently. 

Talk about dreams — IVe dreamed of the 
ocean, and orange groves, and beautiful things, 
until sometimes IVe nearly gone crazy. Bill, I 
almost hate the desert. It’s beautiful, and of 
course I know it by heart and would probably 
miss it if I never saw it again; but all my life I’ve 
been hungry for California.” 

‘‘ You’re kind of glad I found the big strike, 
aren’t you! ” Bill smiled down at her, bis eyes 
worshipful. I guess we can go to Cabfomia, 
all right. We could go to the South Pole, if we 
wanted to badly enough. Anywhere in the world 
you say, Doris. You and I together have four 
claims along this contact — as near as I could 
judge from surface indications. That ought to 
bring your dreams to life, don’t you think? ” 
Then he sobered. But it’s going to take a little 
time, at that. We’ve got to dig it out, you know. 
Unless,” he added dubiously, ‘‘ I sold out for just 
what I could get. That would be quick money, 
hut it wouldn’t be enough to let us play the rest 
of our lives. I’d have to take some of it and get 
into some business or other. And that would 
tie us down to one spot more or less.” 

92 


‘'Monte Cristo Would Enjoy This!” 

Doris shook her head at that. No, we mustn’t 
sell out. You remember what Mr. Raytield said 
at the breakfast table, don’t you? He certainly 
does know what he’s talking about, and I know 
he’d be glad to advise — us.” The last word she 
spoke wdth an adorable hesitation which regis¬ 
tered an extra beat in Bill’s pulse. ^ ‘ He’s a gov¬ 
ernment man, so of course you can trust him. I 
think we ought to show this vein to him, and let 
him tell us just what to do. His talk about cor¬ 
porations was awfully sensible. Bill.” 

I don’t know, Doris.” Bill’s eyes became 
shadowed with an unhappy memory. I’m kind 
of scared of corporations. One of them broke my 
dad. He found a mine — not so good as this by 
a long way, but still pretty good — and some 
crooks incorporated it for him. When they got 
through with him, he had a bunch of stock and 
no mine. No money, either. It got him. He 
lived about two years after that, and he spent all 
his time cursing corporations. I don’t know, 
Doris, but it kind of left me with a chill whenever 
I hear the word.” 

Well, you say yourself that they were crooks. 
Mr. Eayfield and Mr. Emmett may have landed 
those very men in the penitentiary. ‘‘You’ve got 
nerves. Bill. I never would have suspected it.” 

“ Maybe there’s a good deal about me you’ve 

93 


The Parowan Bonanza 

never suspected/^ Bill hinted warily, — and al¬ 
most told her about the saxophone. But he didn^t. 
His courage was too new and timid, the mine was 
too wonderful, and the love of Doris too unbe¬ 
lievable. 

One thing I^d better do,’^ he said, dragging 
his mind back to the practical, and that is to 
cover up this vein before some one goes to ^ high- 
grading ^ on us. Tommy says A1 Freeman’s a 
thief around mines.” 

He pulled shovel and pick from under a ridge 
of washed gravel and began artfully filling the 
cut so that it looked as if the dirt had caved in on 
the side where the vein had been exposed. There 
was nothing crude in Bill’s work. When he had 
finished, a stranger would have sworn that the 
earth, gravel and rocks had rattled down from 
above. Doris kept watch for him, and mourned 
openly because all that beautiful ore must be 
buried out of sight. It seemed to her almost a 
sacrilege. 

That’s all right,” Bill comforted'her, stand¬ 
ing with his arm around her shoulders while he 
contemplated his camouflage. It can’t run away 
or spoil, you know. That vein would be enough 
to tempt any man whose honesty didn’t reach to 
the middle of his bones. Now you go on up the 
gulch while I brush out our tracks around this cut. 

94 


‘'Monte Cristo Would Enjoy This!’' 

There a little vein up in the next location hole 
that's just a stringer—but it's fairly rich, and 
will do to show. We'll go up there, and I'll do 
a little digging and get some samples. And then, 
if you want me to put it up to the government 
men, Doris, I'll do it. But I'll do it on the strength 
of what show’s up in Parowan Number Two—and 
we'll just keep this Number One vein a secret 
between us. Shall we? " 

Yes-s, if you let me tell daddy and mother," 
Doris assented. I don't believe I could keep 
it a secret from them. Bill." 

We'll tell them, sure. I'll leave Tommy in 
charge of camp and go over with you to the ranch. 
I'd like to ask your dad what he thinks of it be¬ 
fore I talk to the government men." 

Well, I think that's a good plan. They'll all 
believe, of course, that you're going over to see 
about that water tunnel. You can't atford to dig 

tunnels for dad, now -" she gave his arm an 

ecstatic squeeze “-but they won't know that. 

Oh, I think it's just dandy to have to be secret 
about it! " 

Anyway, it's a darn sight safer," Bill told 
her laconically, and led the way to Number Two. 


95 




CHAPTER NINE 


A HINT FKOM DOKIS 

A SHORT cut from Number Two claim led them 
straight over a low ridge to camp. Not only did 
this trail shorten the distance considerably; it 
also avoided'altogether the gulch and Parowan 
Number One — with its secret. 

A1 Freeman was seen pottering around the 
camp by the junipers. Evidently the truce still 
held, for Tommy had finished his blacksmithing 
and was setting the camp to rights, mumbling un¬ 
intelligibly over his work. 

BilPs plans had taken definite form, which 
means that he had half-unconsciously conceded 
every point brought forth by Doris, who was ac¬ 
customed to having her say about things on the 
ranch. In one particular only had Bill stood firm. 
He would not take the experts into his confidence 
until he had talked with Don Hunter. To this 
Doris readily assented, feeling fairly certain that 
her dad would advise whatever Doris herself 
wanted. Bill reluctantly left the girPs side and 
joined Tommy over by the forge. 

96 


A “ Hint ” from Doris 

Ill have to make a trip over to the Hunter 
ranch,’’ he announced. I guess our mining will 
have to wait until I get back — unless our neigh¬ 
bors should happen to move on. But I’ve about 
decided that we ’re going to need a dugout to store 
our grub in. Eight here in this bank is a good 
place to dig. While I’m gone you can be making 
the^ dugout, Tommy — and you can keep an eye 
on the camp while you’re doing it. Eight now, 
while Miss Hunter is in camp, I’ll take you up 
and show you the claims. I’ve got a pretty rich 
vein and I don’t want any one monkeying around 
there while I’m gone. I’ll leave it to you and 
Hez.” 

They went off together over the ridge, and A1 
Freeman stopped his work and openly watched 
their departure. When they were quite out of 
sight, he-came shambling over to Bill’s tent and 
pulled open the flap. 

Well? ” Doris looked up from spreading 
jam between cold biscuits for their lunch on the 
trail. She might have been speaking to one of 
her father’s ranch hands, for all the emotion she 
showed. 

A1 grinned slyly and placatingly. 

Excuse me,” he said in his flat voice that 
grated unpleasantly on the ear. I left my ter- 
baccer in here somewhere this morning. If it 

97 


The Parowan Bonanza 

ain’t botherin’ ye none, I just thought I’d come 
over an’ git it.” 

It took you a long time to miss it,” Doris 
observed coldly. ‘‘ Why didn’t you ask Bill for 
it? ” 

I didn’t think of it then,” A1 grinned, edging 
into the tent. 

Well, I can’t let you go pawing around in 
here while he’s gone.” Doris continued to spread 
other split biscuits with jam. Go on out, and 
wait till Mr. Dale comes.” 

He ain’t likely to be back very soon,” A1 
argued insinuatingly. I just about got to have 
a smoke. Miss Hunter — no two ways about it. 
Won’t take me but a minute to look where I laid 
my terbaccer. ’ ’ 

Doris straightened and stood eyeing him at¬ 
tentively, a butcher knife in her left hand. 

Whereabouts did you lay it, then? ” she de¬ 
manded. 

Bight on a sack in this comer. I was gittin’ 
up to go to breakfast, an’ I laid my terbaccer 
down on a sack in this comer. I mind now that 
Mr. Emmett kinda joggled things ’round, pullin’ 
out a box to set on. I never thought no more 
about it till I went to make a smoke. ’ ’ He turned 
to the corner and stooped, laying hold upon a 

98 


A “ Hint ” from Doris 

half-filled sack of something. “ It musta fell over 
behind, ’ ’ he mumbled. 

‘‘You get out of that corner and out of this 
tent,'’ Doris commanded sternly, laying down the 
knife. 

A1 lifted his lip in a smile'that was half a snarl. 
“ Aw, you wouldn't make a man go without his 
terbaccer," he whined, lifting the sack and finding 
it unexpectedly heavy. “ Must be gold bricks 
in this sack," he tittered. “ I guess that sample 
he showed at breakfast ain't all he's got! " 

WiU you get out of here? " Doris took a step 
forward, her eyes, her whole face, hardening with 
anger. 

“ Now, now, no use gittin' excited," A1 pro¬ 
tested, leering at her. “ I can't go off without 
my terbaccer — mebby it fell into this sack. I'll 
just take a look." 

His hand was fumbling inside the sack when 
Doris fired. Hunkered down on his heels, A1 gave 
a grotesque leap straight into the air, as the bullet 
spatted into the earthen floor and kicked dirt 
over his toes. He came down sidewise, sprawled 
awkwardly and clawing to get up. 

“ That's just a hint," Doris announced dis¬ 
passionately through the drifting Kttle smoke 
cloud. ‘ ‘ In about one minute-'' 


A1 went out on hands and knees and picked him- 

99 



The Parowan Bonanza 

self up and ran. Doris followed him out, saw him 
duck into his own tent and laughed a little. 

Al, too, was laughing silently, showing his 
broken, tobacco-stained teeth. He was staring 
gloatingly down at the piece of ore he had dragged 
from the sack, hidden in the palm of his big hand. 

Doris returned to the tent and stood looking 
reflective^ down at the tilted sack. She stooped, 
reached inside it and brought out a lump of ore. 
She frowned over it, her under lip between her 
teeth. 

^ ‘ Bill certainly needs a guardian, ’ ’ she said to 
herself. ‘ ^ Leaving half a sack of this stuff right 
where the first sneak thief could help himself! 
That fellow must have suspected it was here, too. 
Ifll bet he never lost any tobacco in here — but 
it’s easy enough to find out.” 

She made a thorough search of the corner and 
convinced herself that Al had been lying to her 
and that his sole purpose was to get his hands 
on that ore. She tilted the sack again, spilling 
the contents out on the ground. She had no fear 
that Al would return. With her lifelong knowl¬ 
edge of the desert had come the understanding 
of desert types of men, and she needed no ex¬ 
planation of Al Freeman. She knew him for what 
he was: a coward at heart, mean and treacherous 
and capable of crime that might be hidden. She 

100 


A ‘‘ Hint ’’ from Doris 

did not know that he had carried off a piece of 
the ore, but she knew that he suspected its rich¬ 
ness. Only a tenderfoot will cumber his tent 
with valueless samples of mineral, — and Bill 
Dale was no tenderfoot. 

He thought he could fool me,’’ she analyzed 
the incident contemptuously. Or maybe he 
thought I’d be scared to say anything to him.” 
She sorted the pieces of ore, choosing those that 
showed the largest specks and splotches of gold. 
She fondled them, turned them to the light, 
feasted her eyes upon them. 

“ Eich! Bill’s rich, this minute. A millionaire, 
for all we know,” she mused. And maybe it’s 
like this on my claim, too. Dear old Bill — he 
surely deserves a fortune. How he’s worked to 
find it — and he’s loved me all the time and 
wanted to strike it so we — I’m going to make 
him leave the working of the mine to some one 
else. He can afford to take life easy now — we’ll 

live in Los Angeles, or maybe we’ll travel-” 

She was sitting cross-legged, with her lap full 
of rich pieces of quartz, when Bill looked in upon 
her. She scrambled up, her two hands clutching 
the prettiest specimens. Bill was laughing at 
her, his eyes adoring. Doris pulled her fine eye¬ 
brows together and shook her head at him. 

Good thing you’ve got some one to look after 

101 



The Parowan Bonanza 

you, old boy,^’ she scolded, half in earnest. 

You^d have been robbed of all this, and maybe 
cleaned out of everything else, if I hadn’t scared 
him off. He had his hand in the sack, mind you, 
when I shot at his feet. That put him on the run. 
Bill, you’d better tell Tommy to pack a gun while 
you’re gone. That fellow, Al, needs a whole lot 
of watching. What in the world made you keep 
all this stuff here in the tent? He must have 
known it was here, or at least he suspected 
it-” 

‘H’ll mighty quick settle with him/^ Bill said 
grimly, and turned away. 

Doris stopped him. Better let it pass. Bill. 
You see, I couldn’t prove he wasn’t after his to¬ 
bacco, just as he claimed. He may have lost it 
here. I don’t believe it, but he had his excuse 
for coming. And he didn’t steal anything. I 
scared him off before he had a chance. Perhaps 
I should have waited and got the goods on him. 

‘‘ No, just gather up everything but that sample 
you had out in sight this morning, and we ’ll carry 
it over and show it to daddy. And have Tommy 
watch out. There really isn’t anything Al can do, 
is there ? ’ ’ 

Not unless he bats Tommy on the head; and 
from all accounts. Tommy’s good at that game. 
So you took a shot at him, did you? ” 

102 



A Hint from Doris 

And scared the life out of him, almost. We’ll 
have to hurry, Bill. If you can pack my oufit 
on one of the burros, you could ride old Eambler. 
I wish you would. And can’t we take Luella 
along? ” 

Bill said that they could, but he would not ride 
Eambler. On the desert a horse seldom travels 
faster than a walk on a long journey, especially 
with a pack animal along. Bill was accustomed 
to depending on his own legs, and a twenty-mil^ 
hike was his regular day’s travel when on the 
trail. He therefore packed an emergency camp 
outfit on Wise One and set out quite happily, walk¬ 
ing beside Doris, sometimes touching her hand 
caressingly, his soul still hushed and trembling 
lest all this would prove itself a dream. 

In violet shadows they approached the house 
in its square of cottonwoods and saw a tall, rangy 
figure step leisurely down from the porch and 
come to meet them, holding a big-bowled, briar 
pipe from which lazy incense floated upward. 

Leaning both arms upon the top board of the 
yard fence, Don Hunter waited placidly until they 
came up, Eambler shuffling into a trot as he re¬ 
membered his stall. Occasionally Don placed the 
pipestem between his teeth and took comfort from 
the slow inhalation of smoke. Content emanated 
from his personality as perfume of a flower gives 

1Q3 


The Parowan Bonanza 

a soothing quality to the air about it. He was a 
strong man, meant to dominate those lesser souls 
with whom he came in contact, and some with 
souls as great as his, but humble in their great¬ 
ness. He was not an aggressive man, but most 
men feared to incur his ill will or his contempt, 
and his opinion was rated above that of his neigh¬ 
bors; and although he was slow to give advice, 
scarcely a day passed but he was asked for it. 
Bill did not know a man whom he liked better or 
respected more, and his attitude was not greatly 
influenced by the fact that Don was the father of 
Doris. Indeed, he had known Don Hunter long 
before he first met the girl. And if his prospect¬ 
ing were frowned upon by the older man. Bill 
knew that Don would be the first to throw up his 
hat over BilPs success, and never think of his own 
possible benefit from the strike. 

Hello, Bill,’^ Don called as the two came up. 
Bill walking briskly behind his burro. Doris had 
professed a reluctance to let daddy and mother 
know that night about the tentative engagement, 
and they had traveled apart for the last mile 
across the flat. 

Howdy, Don. Well, we’re here, all right.” 

Don reached out a long arm and swung open 
the gate. Then he and Bill shook hands, looking 

104 


A “ Hint ” from Doris 

into each other’s eyes with frank pleasure in the 
meeting. 

‘‘ Glad to see yuh, Bill. Just slip the bridles 
off — there’s hay in the corral — and come on in. 
Supper’s been waiting on yuh.” 

<< We’re half-starved, Daddy, and that’s the 
truth,” Doris declared, leaning from the saddle 
to kiss the top of his head as she rode past. 

Bill’s about all in, I reckon. We got a late 
start and hustled right along.” 

‘^'Just keep that pace up till you hit the supper 
table,” Don suggested, and fastened the gate be¬ 
hind them before he returned to the porch. 

They’re here. Momma,” he called within, and 
stood in the dusk of the doorway, waiting. 

Bill had stridden ahead and opened the corral 
gate, and Wise One nipped through the opening 
and made for the manger along one side where 
fresh hay was piled. Kambler crowded past Bill 
hurriedly and went trotting after the burro. 
Doris rode through, kicked her right foot free of 
the stirrup and swung down, landing unexpectedly 
in Bill’s arms. 

Oh, Bill — daddy’ll see us! ” she protested 
weakly as Bill lifted her face with a palm under 
her chin. 

Just one more kiss — and say you love me,” 
Bill pleaded softly. I can’t believe it — it 

105 




The Parowan Bonanza 

seems it like a dream. Kiss me, little Doris. In 
the last few hours Bill had attained a certain 
masterful manner, though he still suffered uneasy 
moments of incredulity that demanded instant 
proof of the sweet reality. 

Curiously, while they actually hurried, and Bill 
held her no longer than a few seconds in his arms, 
Don Hunter ^s voice came bellowing from the 
porch before they reached the corral gate. He 
looked at them searchingly too, when they came 
into the big kitchen where the light was mellow 
and homelike, and where Mrs. Don was spearing 
mealy, white potatoes out of an old-fashioned 
iron kettle. 

They were sighing in gastronomic bliss over 
the thick, quivery custard pie when Doris looked 
across at Bill in mild dismay. 

Bill! You forgot Luella! Ill bet she’s 
swearing herself 'black in the face, out there. ’ ’ 

Bill pushed back his chair and rose. She must 
be hungry — thirsty, too,” he said contritely. 

Excuse me just four seconds and I’ll bring 
her in.” 

First time I ever knew Bill to forget the par¬ 
rot,” Don observed drily. ‘‘Where’s Sister 
Mitchell and Hezekiah? Didn’t leave them be¬ 
hind, did he ? ” 

“ Oh, Bill has a fellow with him in camp. Yes, 

106 


A Hint ’’ from Doris 

he only brought Luella. She doesn't seem to like 
Tommy very well. She wouldn't say a word, 
hardly. Oh, come on, Luella! " But the smile 
Doris sent toward the door was too intimate to 
be wasted on a mere parrot. Don Hunter lifted 
one eyebrow, then pulled them both together in 
a puzzled frown. 

Luella hungry? Let me have her. Bill. 
Here's a lovely wishbone, Luella." 

Luella tilted her head sidewise and regarded 
the proffered dainty suspiciously. 

can't believe it," she remarked with star¬ 
tling distinctness. One more kiss — say you 
love me. Seems like a dream. Kiss me, Doris. 
Daddy'll see us. I can't believe it. We're rich. 
Bill, dear. I can't believe it. Do you love me? " 
Then, and then only, Luella accepted the wish¬ 
bone and began daintily picking off tiny shreds 
of chicken meat. 


CHAPTER TEN 


‘‘ we’ee bich, bill, dear 

Bill started for the door, stumbling against a 
chair in his flight. ^ ‘ I ^11 kill this darned bird! ’ ’ 
he threatened viciously. ^ ‘ That’s the second time 
she’s tipped my hand lately. ’ ’ 

Luella looked up at him sidewise and blinked 
in the effort to remember something. 

Bill Dale’s parrot tipped Bill’s hand,” she 
muttered, and turned her head the other way. 

‘‘We’ll lay low. See the recorr-r-” She 

turned and walked up Bill’s arm to his shoulder, 
tilting forward there and making kissy sounds 
against his crimson cheek. “ I can’t believe it. 
We’re rich. Bill, dear.” Then she laughed in a 
shrill falsetto. 

“ Better come on back and finish your pie be¬ 
fore I boot you outside,” Don observed drily. “ I 
reckon maybe you can explain where the bird 
learned all that. Never saw yuh on the run be¬ 
fore, Bill.” 

At that. Bill returned and stood behind his 

108 



“ We’re Rich, Bill, Dear ” 


chair, looking down honestly into Don Hunter’s 
searching eyes. 

She learnt it eavesdropping,” Bill said 
bluntly. She does that trick, every once in 
awhile. She got it straight, too. I — asked Doris 
to marry me, and she said it would be a good deal 
as you two say. I didn’t ask her until I was dead 
certain I’d be able to give her luxuries a prospec¬ 
tor couldn’t afford. I struck the richest vein of 
gold-bearing quartz, Don, that I ever saw in the 
ground. I’ve got three claims on the lead, and I 
located one for Doris, too. 

I didn’t come over to go to work. I came 
to ask you if you’d have me in the family, and 
I wanted to get your advice about what to do with 
my claims. There are several thousand dollars’ 
wmrth in sight — at a rough guess. And the vein 
looks strong.” He smiled at Mrs. Don, who 
smiled back mistily. ‘ ^ I didn’t mean to spring it 
all on you folks this evening. I — kind of wanted 
to get my nerve tuned up, and tell you with trim¬ 
mings. But the darned parrot beat me to it, 


So you’d better sit right down and eat your 
pie,” Mrs. Don finished for him, laughing tremu¬ 
lously. You’re a good boy. Bill. We — we’d 
hate awfully to lose our girl; she’s all we’ve got. 
But — far as I’m concerned, I’d rather it would 

109 



The Parowan Bonanza 

be you — if you ’re sure you can take care of her. ’ ^ 
The boss has said it.’’ Don gave his wife the 
look one bestows upon some treasured thing. 

Sit down — sit down! Don’t look as if you ex¬ 
pected to be l 5 aiched for it. The women folks run 
this house, Bill. So you struck it rich! You say 
you’re sure it ain’t just a fluke? ” 

Doris rose hastily, asking permission with her 
eyes. 

‘ ^ Fluke! ’ ’ She glanced eloquently at Bill, then 
at her father. You wait a minute. I’ll show 
you whether it’s a fluke. There. I hid it under 
my gloves because I was going to wait till morn¬ 
ing before we said anything. Look at that, will 
you. Mother? And cast your critical glance at 
that, Dad Hunter! ” She placed a piece of ore 
beside each plate and returned triumphantly to 
her seat. 

A lump came into Bill’s throat as he watched 
those two, slipping past middle age, never quite 
reaching rainbow’s end except in love. Mrs. Don 
lifted the sample, looked at it, leaned and held it 
under the direct rays of the lamp, glanced diffi¬ 
dently at Bill, then looked questioningly across 
the table at Don. 

‘‘ It’s — gold, isn’t it? Without my glasses I 
— but it looks-” 


Don deliberately produced his reading glasses 

110 



'' We’re Rich, Bill, Dear ” 

from an inner pocket of liis vest, tucked the bows 
over his ears and picked up the specimen which 
Bill had chipped oft the vein and given to Doris. 
Don moved his tongue in his cheek while he looked, 
slanting the rock so that the lamp shone on it. 
He was not a miner himself, but he had lived too 
long in Nevada not to know minerals fairly well. 
He pushed his glasses down his nose until he 
could look over them at Bill. 

How much of this have you got in sight, did 
you say? ’’ 

I estimated it roughly at about five thousand 
dollars. When I first located the vein I mortared 
and panned enough to get a fair idea of how it 
was running. The vein averaged about ten inches, 
fairly uniform so far. The storm last night un¬ 
covered it so now it stands out clean from the 
side of the cut like an outcropping; or it did, be¬ 
fore I covered it up. I didnT want to come away 
and leave it open. There are some strangers 
camped right beside me. Government men — but 
I didnT like the look of their packer.^’ 

DidnT like the look — my goodness. Mother! 
The fellow came to the tent when I was there get¬ 
ting ready to start home, and he started snooping 
around in the corner where Bill had a lot of this 
ore. He was bound and de-^er-mined he’d see 
what was in the sack. I told him more than once 

111 


The Parowan Bonanza 

to go — but I bad to shoot into the ground beside 
him before he^d go. He went then, all right! 

Her mother looked alarmed. Why, Doris! 
And where was Bill? ’’ 

^ ^ I was up at the claims with Tommy, ’ ’ Bill ex¬ 
plained. You can see, maybe, why I canT be 
away long — and why I covered up this vein. ’ ^ 

Oh dear! ’’ Mrs. Hunter leaned her head on 
her hand as if she had become suddenly aware of 
a great weariness. Must you go through all 
that fighting and grasping over gold? A boom 
always seems to me like a lot of wild animals 
fighting and tearing at one another, to get a bone 
which the first one on the hunting ground has 
already cleaned.^’ She closed her eyes tightly 
for an instant, then looked wistfully from Doris 
to Bill. I don’t know but what gold costs more 
than it’s worth, after all,” she said. And the 
more you have, the more terrible the price. I 
don’t know but what I’d just about as soon see 
you two face poverty together, as to see you face 
a boom. You know,” she added apologetically, 

I was bom in Virginia City. I’ve seen sudden 
wealth and sudden poverty. And the sudden 
wealth was worse, sometimes — though I never 
heard of a man shooting himself because he stmck 
it rich, and they do sometimes when they lose 
everything. ’ ’ 


112 


'' We’re Rich, Bill, Dear ” 


That^s what Mr. Eayfield meant, I guess. He 
said if Bill had a lot of ore like the sample he 
saw, he^d have BilPs friends pray that wealth 
wouldn^t spoil him.^^ Doris smiled tolerantly at 
her mother, as youth is wont to smile at ex¬ 
perience. 

‘ ‘ Who ^s Eayfield ? ^ ’ Don Hunter pushed back 
his chair with a rasping sound on the bare floor. 
‘‘ How did he come to see a sample? Doris, you 
help your mother with the dishes; you ought to 
have a lot to talk over. Bill, come on out on the 
porch and let’s get at the bottom of this. So far 
I can’t make head nor tail of anything. ’ ’ 

Out on the porch the two men smoked in silence, 
w^atching the twinkling of camp fires half a mile 
away, where travelers were availing themselves of 
running water and shade for one comfortable 
camp on the desert. The Hunter ranch saw many 
such wayfarers, for it lay close to the highway 
(such as it was) and formed a sort of oasis, all 
the more enticing because one could buy fresh 
eggs and milk and, if one were lucky, a loaf or two 
of delicious bread. Mrs. Don called such revenue 
her pin money, and Don himself grinned and won¬ 
dered sometimes what she ever did with it. 

Who’s Eayfield? ” Don repeated his ques¬ 
tion abruptly, after a lapse of several minutes. 

Bill told him, making few words of it but con- 

113 


The Parowan Bonanza 

triving to paint a very clear picture in Don^s 
mind. 

^ ‘ They didn T come this way — or if they did, 
they didn’t stop.” Don seemed to consider that 
omission somewhat derogatory to the character 
of the government men. 

They didn’t mention this place at all,” Bill 
said. I got the idea they diverged from the 
trail and cut towards the likeliest mineral show¬ 
ings. That would put them south.” 

What’s your plan. Bill? Or haven’t you got 
any? ” Don inspected his pipe, prodding at the 
tobacco with his finger. Yuh want to cash in 
as soon as yuh can, I reckon — anxious for the 
honeymoon.” 

You’ve been there,” Bill retorted. Sure, 
I’m anxious. That little girl has been hankering 
for the ocean and palm trees all her life, she said.” 

They won’t run away in the next year or so, 
that I know of. W'ell, I’m no mining shark, but 
I reckon I better trail over to your diggin’s and 
see what you’ve got. Maybe them fellows over 
there can be some help, and then again, maybe 
you want to steer clear of them. Just because a 
man draws down his pay from Uncle Sam don’t 
give him any guarantee from the Almighty that 
he’s a he angel. Doris seems to think so.” 

What I want, Don, is for you to take a hand 

114 


‘‘ We're Rich, Bill, Dear " 


and help me get started oft on the right foot. I 
can see it's going to be a mighty big proposition, 
and I don't want to have the same experience my 
dad had. On the other hand, I don't want to act 
the darned fool sitting over my claims with a shot¬ 
gun, afraid somebody's going to rob me. There's 
a safe line betwixt and between that I want to 
take and keep. And I wouldn't ask you to make 
the trip over there, if I didn't Unow the stuff's 
there; acres of it, by the looks.'' 

Don sucked at his pipe for some time before 
he spoke. Then, 

I'll do all I can. Bill. If you're going to be 
one of the family I might as well start bossing yuh 
now. I want to see yuh make good without hurt¬ 
ing the other fellow. It can be done, and if it's 
done rightly, there ain't any cleaner money in the 
world than what comes out of the ground. Mines 
or ranches, you're giving the world something it 
never had before; something it needs. Most 
money-making is just swapping the ownership of 
necessities, or else changing the shape and form 
of them and selling them that way. But when 
you take something outa old Mother Earth, you've 
got it clean. What I can't stomach is the way 
crooks come flockin' around every new strike, and 
making it rotten business. 

Every boom suffers from 'em. When the 

115 


The Parowan Bonanza 


news of this leaks out — has it leaked out, yetf 
Bill shook his head, though Don could not see 
him in the dark. 

Not so far as I know. I just brought down 
supplies and a mucker from Goldfield — and 
there’s something funny happened up there. The 
darn parrot was outside while I was in recording 
the claims, and when I came out, she commenced 
talking a new speech that I ’ll swear I never taught 
her. She got it off to-night, if you noticed. ’ ’ Bill 
blushed consciously, but went on. She said, 
^ Bill Dale’s parrot has tipped Bill’s hand. We’ll 
lay low — see the recorder.’ Only, she couldn’t 
quite get the last W'Ord out. Now, she heard that 
said in Goldfield, while I was in the recorder’s 
office, or she couldn’t have repeated it. I’ve 
learned that much about parrots. She talks right 
along, and seems to know what she means — way 
she calls me down, sometimes, is right human — 
but she has to hear a sentence before she can say 
it. One hearing’s enough, if she happens to take 
a notion to the words. But it was funny, her say¬ 
ing that.” He flicked the ash off his cigarette. 

I shut her up till I was ready to leave,” he 
added. I guess it didn’t amount to anything. 
I wasn’t trailed, anyway.” 

What about these fellows camped up there? 
You sure they ain’t-” 


116 



‘‘ We’re Rich, Bill, Dear ” 


Oh, they came from Las Vegas way. No, 
they^re not on my trail — or if they are they're 
pretty damned smooth." 

Crooks are," Don remarked laconically. 
‘‘ How would the parrot he able to tip your hand? 
Ever think that out? " 

No-o — only, I talk to the menagerie in camp, 
of course. When a fellow doesn't see a human 
for weeks at a time, he'll talk to anything; and 
Luella's next to human, seems like. Yes, I talked 
about buying her a gold perch, I remember, and 
about striking it. I was one tickled man, Don, 
when I first uncovered that vein and saw the gold 
showing right up in the rock." 

^ ‘ Mh-hm — well, I reckon she must have over¬ 
heard you talking about it. Same as she must 
have heard some remarks, coming over, that was 
kind of embarrassing for a minute, when repeated. 
I reckon I'll have to get you outa bed early, to¬ 
morrow morning, Bill. I'm getting mighty curi¬ 
ous to see those government men and have a talk 
with them." He knocked the ashes from his pipe 
and rose. I've learned that one hoof track is 
good as a dozen when you're traihn' stock. A 
critter's got to be present, to make one track. 
And I can't seem to see you teachin' that parrot 
to say that she's tipped your hand, and you'll lie 
low. Some other critter made that track, Bill. If 

117 


The Parowan Bonanza 

I don’t miss my guess, you’ll have somebody try¬ 
ing to horn in somehow. Let’s go in. I want to 
talh to Doris about that feller she took a shot at, 
that was nosin’ around your samples.” 


118 


CHAPTER ELEVEN 


ME. RAYFIELD GIVES ADVICE 

I c’uLDN^T turrn ’em out, Mr. Dale,” Tommy 
explained in a worried tone, and pensively in¬ 
spected a plug of tobacco before helping himself. 
<< A1 Freeman packed the burros an’ hit the trail 
yistiddy, he did — an’ phwat was 11’ do wit’ them 
experts but leave ’em eat uh your grub? They’re 
t’ pay fer the board — I made that plain to ’em 
’fore they swallied a mout’ful — I did that.” 

Bill stood with his hands on his hips, looking 
across to the junipers, where trampled brush and a 
tin can or two marked the spot where the govern¬ 
ment men had made their camp. A1 Freeman had 
evidently made a clean job of it, though Tommy 
had said that the blankets of Bayfield and Emmett 
had been left in a pile on a convenient rock. But 
no food of any kind. Their canteens and pro¬ 
spectors’ picks and sample bags, and the clothes 
they walked in constituted their sole equipment 
for camping on the desert. Of course, there was 
nothing for Tommy to do but take them in and 
feed them, at least until Bill’s return. 

119 


The Parowan Bonanza 

^ ^ What do you make of it, Don 1 ’ ’ Bill relaxed 
his muscles and turned to unsaddle. 

Tell you better when IVe sized up the ex¬ 
perts,’^ Don replied warily. ‘‘ Of course, this A1 
Freeman could expect to hear from you when you 
got back; he maybe decided to go while the going 
was good and he could have burros and plenty of 
grub. When his bosses heard about his perform¬ 
ance in your tent, I donT see how they could do 
anjdhing less than haze him outa camp with a back 
pack — do you? The average skunk like him 
would beat ’em to it and choose his own pack. 
He seems to of been right liberal with himself.” 

Wanted to fix it so they couldn’t follow him 
up, I reckon,” Bill added. When did Bayfield 
and Emmett find it out. Tommy? ” 

When they come in at night, Mr. Dale.” 
Tommy had his chew, now, and felt more at ease. 

Uh coorse, I seen him packin’, an’ I coulda 
stopped ’im easy. But not knoAvin’ their plans, 
how sh’d I know they wasn’t movin’ on, an’ A1 
under orrders t’ pack an’ go? ” 

You couldn’t butt in, of course,” said Bill. 

‘ ^ I’d have stood right here and watched him carry 
off the works, and I’d never have thought to say a 
word against it. It was sure bold — and he could 
get away with it, too. And you couldn’t do any 

120 


Mr. Rayfield Gives Advice 

less than feed the exports. Where did they 
sleep? 

Tommy tilted his head much like Luella. 

They slept outa doors, Mr. Dale. They did, 
that! I seen ^em look longin’ at your bunk, but 
I says I has me orrders, an’ they slept outside. 
They did, that! It was Hez that had the tent to 
hisself, Mr. Dale — barrin’ the turkle which I left 
alone, she was that bashful wit ’ me. ’ ’ He grinned, 
showing broken teeth. Then he thought of some¬ 
thing. 

They was a growlin’ an’ a grumblin’ from 
that dorg, Mr. Dale. ‘‘ But if anny one wished 
to enter the tent, he changed his wish, I’m think- 
in ’. An ’ it might ’a ’ been Mr. Bayfield wantin ’ a 
drink from the bucket, fer I heard him tellin’ that 
other how he was like to make a trip to the spring 
in the night, but recalled the canteen not bein’ 
empty. He got no drink from the bucket befoor 
sun-up, that I c’ld swear to, Mr. Dale.” 

Bill nodded and went thoughtfully about his 
cooking of an early supper. Biding the desert — 
or walking, for that matter — puts an edge on 
one’s hunger, and eating is the first thought on 
arriving in camp. There would still be time to 
show Don his gold vein on Number One, and he 
quizzed Tommy carefully about the movements 
of the experts. Tommy had a deep, wide cut in 

121 


The Parowan Bonanza 

the sidehill to show how his own time had been 
spent, and he had seen to it that Bill’s tent had not 
been entered. Further than that he was vague. 
The experts had struck off to the west, that morn¬ 
ing. They could have swung back around the hill 
and gone up the gulch without Tommy ^s knowl¬ 
edge, however, and Bill was uneasy; though with 
A1 Freeman gone there could be no valid reason 
for being nervous. 

But there is a certain hypnotic quality in na¬ 
tive gold. The very sight of it in its natural form 
will leave a mark on any man’s mind. The pos¬ 
sessor is affected according to his mental caliber. 
He will lose his head and spend money recklessly, 
feeling that he has all nature behind him; or he 
will grow wary, eyeing his fellow men with sus¬ 
picion, haunted by the fear of being robbed. The 
higher the mentality, the more subtle the effect; 
but it is there, nevertheless. 

Don Hunter felt it when he stood beside Bill 
and stared at the vein which Bill had just un¬ 
covered. He stooped and laid a forefinger upon 
one great splotch of gold in the rock. His finger 
could not quite cover it from sight. He rubbed 
the gold almost caressingly. He feasted his eyes 
upon the many specks and splotches. Even when 
he got out his pipe and sat down on the edge of 

122 


Mr. Ray field Gives Advice 

the cut, he could no more take his eyes oft the gold 
than could Doris, when she first saw it. 

My God, Bill, that^s the richest stutf I ever 
saw! he sighed. I couldn’t help thinking, all 
along, that you and Doris had got too excited right 
in the start. I was afraid maybe you both had a 
disappointment coming to you — the way you 
talked about millions. I take it all hack. ’ ’ 

I knew you felt that way about it,” Bill 
grinned. And I knew you’d change your tune 
when you saw it in the ground yourself. That’s 
why I wanted you to see it and help me plan the 
next move. Doris wants to incorporate and let 
the company do the mining while we go otf and 
play. Poor little kid, she wants to see something 
besides sagebrush, and I don’t blame her. If this 
mine can’t make Doris happy and give her the 
things she wants, then it’s of no use to me. What 
do you think about forming a company, Don? 
Bayfield claims it’s the only thing to do. I hate 
the very name ‘ corporation,’ but I know that’s 
partly prejudice. I don’t want to be hidebound. 
I’m willing to leave it to you.” 

And I ain’t going to give snap judgment on 
a thing the size of this.” Don opened his knife 
and went over to pick out that big splotch of gold 
■which seemed to fascinate him. This thing is go¬ 
ing to take some studying. ’ ’ 

123 


The Parowan Bonanza 

That night they talked long with the two re¬ 
search men. Don admired the careful conserva¬ 
tism of Mr. Emmett, but he responded more freely 
to Mr. Eaytield^s genial manner and his clear, 
common-sense way of going at the heart of the 
subject. He had approached the acquaintance of 
the two men with mental reservations. In an hour 
he and Bill had both forgotten their caution; the 
conversation had drifted insensibly into a con¬ 
sultation. 

My, my! I wish that scoundrel had at least 
left us our grips, ’ ’ Mr. Eayfield exclaimed regret¬ 
fully. It’s rather embarrassing to be obliged to 
trust that you will take our word in the place of 
regular credentials. All our papers, instructions, 
reports — everything that could prove our iden¬ 
tity and standing, carried off by that pitiful sneak 
thief! And I suppose,” he added with a grim¬ 
ace, they’ll go to start his camp tire. I doubt 
if the man can read; if he can he ’ll probably bum 
our papers as a means of self-protection. You 
can’t identify slabs of bacon — or burros, either, 
as far as I’m concerned. They all look alike to 
me, the same as Chinamen. So he’ll probably 
bum all our personal belongings and travel like 
an honest prospector. I don’t suppose he man¬ 
aged to get any inkling of what you have here, 
Mr. Dale? ” 


124 


Mr. Rayfield Gives Advice 

Bill replied that he didn^t see how A1 could have 
gotten wise to anything; though his prowling in 
the tent held a sinister meaning, he believed. 

Mr. Eaytield pursed his lips. I wouldn^t 
think that would mean anything more than an 
attempt to steal whatever he could lay his hands 
on,’^ he said judicially. He had undoubtedly 
laid his plans to make off with our outfit, and he 
was quite willing to add as much of yours as he 
could steal. My, my, what a plucky young lady 
your daughter is, Mr. Hunter! There isnT a 
doubt in the world but what she saved Mr. Hale 
from being robbed. No,’^ he returned to the 
point in question, I don’t see how A1 could sus¬ 
pect that you had any rich claims here. He 
certainly had no time to locate any ground along¬ 
side you before he left. And that, I think, would 
be his first move. It would be very easy to sell 
his claims in Goldfield without ever showing up 
here again. That is, if he could get hold of some 
of your ore and show it to the right parties. ’ ’ 
You’ve been in Goldfield, Mr. Rayfield? ” Hon 
lifted one eyebrow at him. 

Oh, yes. Yes, we try to keep in touch more 
or less with all the mining camps. Emmett and 
I were there just this summer. Nice little camp 
there. But the speculators are ready for another 
stampede, nevertheless. Ho you know, Mr. 

125 


The Parowan Bonanza 


Hunter, this mining country has produced a type 
of men whom I should call professional boomers. 
A pernicious type, too, in the long run. For while 
they undoubtedly do start things moving when 
they rush to a new camp, they also knock the 
bottom out quite as unthinkingly when they rush 
off to the next boom camp. 

I suppose you realize, Mr. Dale, that youdl 
have to take into consideration that very thing. 
I don^t see any possibility of avoiding a boom here 
at Parowan. The moment the news leaks out in 
Goldfield therein be a rush down here. It will 
be humanly impossible to prevent it. The only 
thing that you can do is to prepare yourself to 
handle it when it comes and see to it that the 
undesirables don’t get control.” 

Has it occurred to you,” Mr. Emmett asked 
abruptly, that somebody’s going to lay out a 
town site here? That’s the first thing that will 
happen. If you’ll take my advice, Mr. Dale, you’ll 
beat them to it. If you own the town site, you 
can pretty nearly control the situation.” 

Bill and Don looked at each other questioningly. 
Don turned to the other two, eyeing them quizzi¬ 
cally. What’s the matter with you two laying 
out the town site yourselves? ” he asked. 

Seems to me you’re entitled to some benefit 
here, if it’s only to break even on your outfit,” 

126 


Mr. Rayfield Gives Advice 

Mr. Rayfield laughed and threw out his hand 
in a gesture of helplessness. 

Our hands are tied, Mr. Hunter. So long as 
we are in the employ of the government we are 
not permitted to profit in any way from the work 
that we do or from any mineral which may he 
uncovered. Sort of sanctified to the service of 
Uncle Sam. We’d have to resign before we could 
take any active part in your strike, Mr. Dale.” 

Bill studied that for a moment. You know all 
about the best way to handle this proposition,” 
he said finally. That to^vn-site idea is a bird — 
only I’d be plumb helpless about starting a thing 
like that in country that isn’t surveyed. I sup¬ 
pose you wouldn’t think of such a thing as resign¬ 
ing from your jobs and taking hold here.” He 
glanced at Don for approval. 

Mr. Rayfield shook his head slowly. That, 
I’m afraid, would need some ve-ry serious con¬ 
sideration. Of course, we’re not mere chattels; 
we could resign at any time. But there’s the ethi¬ 
cal point to consider. Speaking for myself, Mr. 
Dale, I’d have to feel very sure that I could be of 
real service, and that in a field broad enough to 
justify my leaving this research work to others. 
Of course,” he went on musingly, if I could be 
sure that I might be able to help develop this dis¬ 
trict and make the name Parowan stand for clean, 

127 


The Parowan Bonanza 

efficient mining, with a clean, orderly town here, 
that would be a tremendous achievement for any 
man. The research work in this particular dis¬ 
trict would almost take care of itself. This whole 
Parowan neighborhood would be gone over with 
a fine-tooth comb by prospectors. ^ ^ 

He rose, glancing with his good eye at Mr. Em¬ 
mett. I think we’d all better sleep on the sub¬ 
ject,” he smiled disarmingly. Mr. Emmett and 
I will in any event be glad to look over your claims 
and give you our honest opinion and as much ad¬ 
vice as we feel competent to offer. And as to 
our resigning and taking hold here — we’ll have 
to think that over. But I feel free to say, here and 
now, that we will think it over; and that, if yon 
only knew it, is a very great compliment to you 
folks and to the mine we believe you have got 
here.” 

Mr. Emmett had also risen to his feet. He 
smiled slightly, glancing from one to the other. 

Walter is more impulsive than I am, more 
inclined to play hunches. But we stand pretty 
close together and I usually agree with him in 
the long run. I don’t fall in with this idea of 
resigning. Eight now I call it foolish. We’ve 
passed up dozens of chances to make a stake in 
some mining boom. I don’t know what’s got into 
him to-night. But it’s only fair to tell you that 

128 


Mr. Ray field Gives Advice 

I’m going to talk him out of that notion if I can.” 

Mr. Eayfield threw hack his head and laughed 
contagiously. It isn’t a notion,” he denied 
joviaUy. Bill Dale, here — Hopeful Bill Dale 
— paid us the high compliment of suggesting it. 
It’s no treason, John, to think it over. Come 
along to bed and don’t look so solemn.” He 
turned to Don and Bill, smiling down at them 
almost paternally. 

Don’t mind John Emmett, boys. He has no 
sense of humor, anyway. To-morrow, I think 
we’ll just postpone our field work and go into 
this proposition very thoroughly with you. Our 
time and what scant knowledge we have is at your 
disposal, and free as the desert air. I hope you 
won’t hesitate to use both as long as you feel 
the need. And whether we decide to roll up our 
sleeves and help make you a millionaire. Bill, or 
whether we go on pecking at rocks for the gov¬ 
ernment, I hope you’ll rely always upon our 
friendship and good will.” 

They had been gone some minutes before Don 
straightened from his hunched position on a box 
and knocked the cold ashes from his pipe. 

We’ll try and get them in,” he said slowly. 
^ ‘ That town-site idea is worth darn near as much 
as your mine. ’ ’ 


129 


CHAPTER TWELVE 


A MAN shouldn’t MIX BUSINESS WITH LOVE 

The big hotel in Goldfield was humming with 
talk and laughter, as people rushed here and 
there. Arriving guests were lined up at the desk, 
waiting anxiously to hear whether they could have 
a room and bath, or must content themselves with 
a plain room. A third of them betrayed signs of 
having slept out under the stars or under canvas. 
A few of them gazed at these desert dwellers with 
curiosity that was more than a little envious. 
The rest were quite absorbed in their own affairs 
and gave no attention to their neighbors. And the 
loungers in the great, velvet-upholstered chairs 
scattered amongst the great pillars of the lobby, 
watched the new ones, idly amused or indifferent. 

That’s Bill Dale,” a slender, black-eyed man 
volunteered to his companion on the right, and 
waved his cigar toward the elevator. And 
that’s his bride — the little Hunter girl. You 
know Don Hunter, don’t youf Sure, you do! 
Well, that’s his daughter and her mother. Bill? 
Why, he’s the fellow that discovered Parowan! 

130 


A Man Shouldn’t Mix Business with Love 

Gold you could hack out of the quartz with your 
knife! Yeah — that’s the stuff they’ve got over 
across the street, in the window. Brought in a 
ton of it and dumped it in that window like so 
much dirt! 

Talk about luck! You know how he found 
it? Why, he was prospecting around and hap¬ 
pened to camp at Parowan spring one night. And 
I’m blamed if a young cloud-burst didn’t hit that 
side of the mountain, that night, and uncovered 
the whole vein, bare as your hand. Fact. Bill ran 
slap on to it when he went to the spring next morn¬ 
ing for water. 

He was cute as the next one. Staked out a 
group of claims and kept the whole thing hushed 
up till he’d got everything nailed down. Laid out 
a town site, even. Did that on the quiet, too — 
Don Hunter got a surveyor friend of his to go 
dovm and run some lines on his ranch. When 
he got him down there, he just hitched up and 
hauled him over to Bill’s claims, and had him lay 
out Parowan towm and survey the group of claims 
so there wouldn’t be any chance for fraction 

hunters. Everything air-tight- 

‘‘Huh? No, I didn’t say water-tightl Bill’s 
incorporated, and everybody with two bits in his 
overalls is buying stock. Take my word, that 
stock’s making a rocket look like a kid climbing 

131 



The Parowan Bonanza 

a greased pole. I bought a block at par — first 
offering was at par, mind you. Nothing cheap 
about Bill! But then he’s a fine, straight fel¬ 
low, and everybody knows he wouldn’t stand for 
any wildcatting. He’s got it, you see. Why, they 
keep guards standing over that mine with sawed- 
off shotguns — or so I heard. 

‘ ^ What’s that f Sure, I ’ll take you down there. 
If I get a chance, I’ll have you meet Bill. Noth¬ 
ing swell-headed about him — I used to know him 
when he packed his'grub out of here on two bur¬ 
ros; wasn’t so long ago, either, that he did that 
same thing — but everybody is after him now, 
of course. He always was popular and now his 
millions are not getting him the cold shoulder 
any, that I’ve noticed. Then he was just mar¬ 
ried to-day — this morning, upstairs in the par¬ 
lor— with all the big bugs in toAvn present. 
They’re leaving to-morrow morning for Califor¬ 
nia on their honeymoon. 

You know, Fred, if you want a good, safe in¬ 
vestment that will bring quick returns, Parowan’s 
your best bet. Either buy Parowan Consolidated, 
or else go down and pick up some lots in the town. 
As for the stock, they’re shipping gold out of there 
in the rock right now and building a mi ll with 
the proceeds. There’s going to be a railroad in 
there soon as it can be put through; two, I heard 

132 


A Man Shouldn’t Mix Business with Love 

to-day — but that may be just street gossip. 
Some one was saying a cut-off’s coming through 
from Las Vegas to Parowan, and on to Goldfield. 
Don’t know how true that is, but I do know for a 
fact that a line will be put through from Bar stow 
or thereabouts. That’s been talked of for quite 
a while, but Goldfield has lost the peak of her 
boom in the last few months, and it took this new 
Parowan strike to bring things to a head. 

‘‘ Bill’s heading this way. You hold my place 
— I’m going to wander across his trail and meet 
him. If I can, I’ll bring him over. I want you 
to meet the man that’s being talked about more 
than any other man in the West to-day.” 

The black-eyed man manoeuvered cleverly so 
that he met Bill within six feet of the settee where 
his friend was waiting. But Bill was halted in 
the middle of a group that seemed disinclined to 
make their greetings brief. They were important¬ 
looking men, money-makers every one, if looks 
meant anything. All were laughing; several were 
talking at once. The black-eyed man caught Bill’s 
eye over the shoulder of those in front, and tilted 
his head backwards. Bill answered the look with 
a slight nod and gradually worked his way toward 
the signaller. 

“ How are you, Davis? Pretty crowded here 
to-night.” Mechanically Bill shook hands, that 

133 


The Parowan Bonanza 

friendly ceremony having been forced upon him 
in the past two months until his hand went out 
as unconsciously as does the hand of a politician 
at election time. Davis held to the hand and drew 
him toward the settee. 

Gold’s an old story to you, Bill, but all the 
same I want you to meet a friend of mine who is 
just down from Alaska after his own little 
clean-up. Fred Moore’s his name, and he’s not 
such a bad guy to have for a friend. Packed me 
in out of the cold on his back, once, when I was 
up there a year or two ago. How many miles 
was it, Fred, that you carried me that time ? ’ ’ 
Fred had gotten to his feet and was shaking 
hands with Bill. ‘‘Not over forty,” he parried 
indifferently. “ So you’re a bloated plutocrat, 
eh? Davis has been telling me all about you. 
Placer or quartz ? ’ ’ 

“ Free milling gold in quartz,” Bill told him, 
and then excused himself hastily, with two valid 
reasons. One was the appearance of Doris by 
the elevator, evidently looking for him; and the 
other was his growing distaste for the subject of 
his mine. It seemed to him that every man he met 
seized the first opportunity to quiz and question 
him about Parowan. Over and over again he 
had told the truth about finding the mine. Now 
he was cynically content to let the garbled news- 

lU 


A Man Shouldn’t Mix Business with Love 

paper stories and the gossip of men stand for the 
truth. 

Mr. Rayfield joined him without greeting or 
apology as Bill made his way to the elevator,— 
and his bride. Mr. Emmett saw the two and came 
up, so that the three arrived together before 
Doris. 

Are you going to have time this evening to 
hold that business meeting. Bill? Emmett asked 
casually. Your train leaves about nine o^clock 
in the morning, doesn^t it? We ought to get that 
straightened out before you go, or wedl have to 
pester you with papers to sign and a lot of detail 
work. What do you want done about the 
meeting? ’’ 

Bill hesitated, glancing toward Doris. Bayfield 
came to the rescue, laying his hand familiarly on 
BilPs arm, perfectly aware of the fact that half 
the men in the lobby were at that moment regis¬ 
tering a certain degree of envy. 

Now, if you don’t want to attend that meet¬ 
ing, Bill, just leave it to us. We can get every¬ 
thing done and you can sign the minutes in the 
morning. My, my, events are surely moving fast! 
There’s a bunch of New York men here to-day — 
just got in this morning. They want to start a 
bank at Parowan just as soon as they can get a 
roof to put it under. And that man 0 ’Hara, with 

135 


The Parowan Bonanza 

the chain of hotels all up and down the coast, 
wants a good corner with two hundred feet front¬ 
age on Main Street. He’s going to build a hotel. 
Wedl have to take that up to-night at the meeting. 
The question is, do we present him with the 
ground for the sake of getting him down there, 
or do we make him pay, the same as other folks? 
He argues that the prestige of having an 0 ’Hara 
House at Parowan is worth the site to put it on. ’ ’ 
He pursed his lips,' which was his substitute for a 
smile. 

Make him pay! ’’ Doris exclaimed, laughing 
a bit. You can bet he isnT going to build an 
0 ^Hara House at Parowan just to help make our 
town look nice. Hell charge boom prices and 
clean up a fortune. Why should we donate to 
the cause? WonT he be making his money otf us 
and the things we ’re doing ? ’ ’ 

^^TJiat^s the way to talk! ” Payfield beamed 
upon her with his good eye. O’Hara’s not in 
the hotel business for his health, you can bet on 
that. And if he doesn’t build a hotel down there, 
some one else will.” 

Yes, but let it once be known that O’Hara’s 
going to put up a hotel in Parowan, and our stock 
will take another jump. We could well atford to 
give him the ground to build on.” Mr. Emmett’s 

136 


A Man Shouldn’t Mix Business with Love 

tone betrayed the fact that this point had been 
discussed before. 

Ob, split the difference,’’ Bill suggested im¬ 
patiently. ^ ^ Let him pick his own site, and charge 
him half price for it. You’re both right, accord¬ 
ing to my understanding of the case. O’Hara’ll 
clean up a bunch of money on the investment, just 
as Doris says. And John’s right about the pres¬ 
tige of having an O’Hara House. Make him call 
it that trade name. Then he won’t dare work off 
poor accommodations on the public. When folks 
know that they can get 0 ’Hara standard of cook¬ 
ing and so on at Parowan, they’ll come in droves.. 
I reckon that’s what makes a town.” 

That’s the talk!” Eayfield patted approval 
on Bill’s flat, muscular shoulder. Suppose we 
make that a regular policy, folks? Cut the prices 
on building sites for all enterprises that will re¬ 
flect credit on the tovm, to just half the selling 
price? ” He looked from one to the other eagerly. 

‘ ‘ The selling price is going up steadily, you know. 
Having to pay something for a site will shut out 
the little shoestring propositions that go broke 
and leave empty houses behind them. That al¬ 
ways looks bad in a town. If they have to pay for 
their building site, it means they’ll have to have 
capital behind them. And no firm is going to sink 
money in real estate unless they mean business.”' 

137 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Oh, come on up to our sitting room and let’s 
have the meeting there and get it over with,” said 
Doris. I’m terribly interested in the whole 
thing — but honestly, my feet are just ready to 
drop off! It’s a radical change from desert shoes 
to French-heeled pumps, let me tell you.” 

‘ ^ All right — come on up, ’ ’ Bill invited re¬ 
signedly. 

Eayfield looked at Emmett. 

‘‘ Sure, if your wife isn’t too tired,” Emmett 
hesitated. You’ve got an early start to make 
in the morning, remember.” 

‘‘ Oh, fudge! ” Doris placed a finger tip on 
the elevator button. This is important. We 
don’t want to go away and leave a lot of tag ends, 
do we. Bill? Because,” she added, smiling up at 

them, goodness only knows when we’ll come 
back! ” 

The elevator slid down, the door slid open and 
Doris stepped inside. Bill just behind her, his hand 
placed solicitously under her elbow. 

We’d better get all the books and bring up, 

then, ” Mr. Bayfield suggested, standing just out¬ 
side. ^ ‘ I think it will be a good idea to clean up 
everything, so John and I won’t have to bother 
you again. You go on up, and we’ll be right along 
in a few minutes.” 

He gave them a smile like a benediction. When 

138 


A Man Shouldn’t Mix Business with Love 

it was quite certain that the conversation had 
terminated, the elevator hoy deferentially closed 
the door and conveyed bride and groom to the 
second floor with the air of one who waits upon 
royalty. 

Shall I unlock the door for you, sir? he 
asked eagerly. 

^^No, thanks,’’ drawled Bill. I’m not para¬ 
lyzed, sonny.” But he slid a coin into the boy’s 
hand to salve the rebuff. 

‘‘ Now, Bill-dear, you must give enough time to 
business to let John and Walter go ahead without 
having to bother us every day. You know, we’re 
going to travel around, just wherever we take the 
notion we want to go. We don’t want Parowan 
riding our necks all the time. Walter told me 
that if you signed the stock books in blank, and 
the Corporation check book, he wouldn’t have to 

bother you at all-’ ’ 

That’s giving them a pretty free hand, 
honey,” Bill objected, laying his cheek against 
her silky hair as she stood within his arms. 

Doris turned in the embrace so that she could 
look into his eyes. 

<< Why, Bill Dale! If you don’t trust John and 
Walter, why have you got them in the company? 
Why is Walter Eayfield Vice President and Gen¬ 
eral Manager, then, and John, Secretary and 

139 



The Parovvan Bonanza 

Treasurer? Bill-dear, donT you think you are 
rather inconsistent ? ’ ’ 

Bill kissed her. 

Bill, it would just about break my heart to 
see you tie yourself down to running Parowan 
Consolidated. I think that would show a streak 
of narrowuiess in you, dear. It seems to me that 
the whole advantage of having the mine and the 
town site and everything is to be able to let others 
do the work and leave you free. You see, dear, 
they both resigned from good government posi¬ 
tions to take hold and help organize the company, 
and the best way to show your gratitude, I think, 
is to trust them with the management now. 
We Ve got the control, haven T we ? And they cer¬ 
tainly have shown that they know exactly how to 
go ahead and make money out of the mine. 

Why, dear man, just think! You^d have 
plugged along, just digging out the gold and sell¬ 
ing it. They^ve made a fortune for us already, 
without taking out more than enough gold to make 
all the expenses of the organization and the town- 
site promotion, and mining and hauling. I donT 
know how they do it — but they certainly are 
wizards at getting in money. 

I love you, little wife,’^ said Bill irrelevantly. 
‘ ‘ If money will make you the happiest woman on 
earth, they canT dig up too much.^’ 

140 


A Man Shouldn’t Mix Business with Love 

Doris pulled him over to a red velvet couch and 
sat down beside him, snuggling against his 
straight, strong body. 

'' Bill, you mustn't think I worship money 
above other things. I don't. But all my life I've 
heard one sentence that always grated on my 
nerves and my sense of justice. Whenever I 
wanted something nice, daddy or mother would 
say, ‘ We can't afford it.' They worked hard, 
and I worked and tried to do right always — and 
still we couldn't afford to enjoy life. 

‘‘ Bill-dear, I never want to hear that said to 
me again, as long as I live! " She drew away 
from him, so that she could look into his face. 
Her own was flushed and very earnest. Now 
we're rich, I mean to have the things and enjoy 
the things we couldn't afford. I never want to 
wonder whether the money will hold out to the end 
of the trip. I want to buy things without asking 
what they cost. I — I'm just hungry for the 
world. Bill! And if you had to hurry back and 
look after things, I — I-" 

Bill gathered her into his arms, his throat con¬ 
tracting painfully at the sudden quiver of her 
lips. One day married, and Doris had tears in 
her eyes! 

I'll make you one promise, right now," he 
said contritely. ‘ ‘ I 'll never bring you back to this 

141 



The Parowan Bonanza 

country unless you want to come. And Idl fix it 
so that youdl always be able to afford anything 
you want. Why, all I Avant is to see you happy 
and keep you loving me, sAveetheart. I could grin 
at the world if I were a hobo and had your love. 
So never Avorry about having to come back to 
Parowan or any other place. ^ ’ 

Doris rewarded him properly for that, and im¬ 
mediately made use of her Avoman’s prerogative 
and had the last word. 

Then you’d better lay aside that suspicious¬ 
ness of yours and fix things so you won’t have 
to come back,” she pouted. John and Walter 
are perfectly capable of managing things, and it’s 
to their interest. Look at the salary they’re get¬ 
ting — and the big block of stock you gave them! 
Our interests are their interests. Bill-dear — and 
they can do the work. You did your share Avhen 
you tramped the desert and found the mine. It’s 
their turn now at the job.” 

Into the echo of that speech walked John and 
Walter, draAvu into Christian-name intimacy in 
the past two months. Their arms were full of 
books — too precious to be carried by anxious 
bellboys — their heads were full of plans and the 
details of their work. Their hearts were full, too, 
of zeal, perchance. One must judge most persons 
by their faces and the words they speak. 

142 


A Man Shouldn't Mix Business with Love 

So Bill spent a weary two hours signing stock 
certificates in blank, on the line in the right-hand 
corner entitled peesident in small caps. They 
were dignified-looking certificates, hut Bill grew 
very tired of them before he was through. 

After that. Bill rubbed the cramp out of his 
right hand and wrist, and signed a large book of 
blank checks with Pakowan Consolidated Mining 
Company, Incoepoeated, printed across the face 
in letters much larger than the name of the bank. 
Bill thought suspiciously of certain dishonest uses 
to which his signature as president might be put, 
and immediately throttled suspicion with the stem 
hand of loyalty. Doris was right. If he didnT 
trust John Emmett and Walter Bayfield, why 
were they officers in his company! 

There’s one thing I want done,” he said ab¬ 
ruptly, pushing the signed blanks away from him 
with a sigh of relief. ^ ‘ I want that whole block — 
the whole block, remember — where my tent and 
dugout stands made over to me. I want a high 
board fence built around it, with spikes in the 
top. I want a padlock on the gate. I want that 
tent and cellar left just as I left it, with Tommy 
as caretaker. And I want Tommy to have a block 
next to it, to do as he pleases with it. Can you 
make out the papers to-night? ” 

They could. Bill sat for some time silent, smok- 

143 


The Parowan Bonanza 

ing meditatively and staring at the door through 
which the fate of Parowan had passed, in the per¬ 
sons of John S. Emmett and Walter B. Bayfield. 

He was a rich man, even now. He was growing 
richer so fast that he felt slightly dizzy when he 
tried to follow the process by which his bank ac¬ 
count increased. It wasn’t the gold in the mine 
that did it — yet. Doris was right; the gold 
shipped had just about paid the expense of ex¬ 
ploitation. People were buying town lots at boom 
prices and selling them at double what they paid. 
Pie was not the only man who was growing rich. 
Even Tommy was talking about starting a saloon 
and calling it “ Tommy’s Place ” with naive 
triteness. 

As Parowan Consolidated was selling in the 
open market. Bill was a millionaire. As Paro¬ 
wan lots were selling. Bill’s income was better 
than a thousand dollars a day — real money, that, 
with a certain increase as men flocked to the new 
camp. Already that camp was noisy — garish, 
unwholesome, no place at all for Doris to live. 
Bill had tried to prevent that. He had wanted a 
decent town, had worked and sweated and sworn 
to make it so. But Parowan was like a landslide 
started with one ill-judged step. It has gathered 
a devastating power as it progressed, until now. 
Bill knew that it was out of hand; a boom town, 

144 


A Man Shouldn’t Mix Business with Love 

living up to the reputation of other boom towns. 
Only — and Bill sighed relievedly as he thought 
of it — his boom had a mine to give it a solid 
foundation. 

‘‘No reason in the world why Parowan 
shouldn't be on the map a hmidred years from 
now/’ he muttered, and began to unlace the first 
pair of patent-leather shoes he had ever worn. 


145 


V 


CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

BILL LEAKNS ABOUT WOMEN FROM ^ER 

A MYSTERIOUS, clottod liazo of gray and blue and 
smoke smudges, shot with rose and deeper tints 
of carmine; a churning of white foam in an oily 
sweep of undulating water that caught the lights 
from the sunset so that they swam through • a 
magic floating world; screaming gulls flapping 
close, their pink legs hanging straight down like 
little sticks; bellowing boat whistles, deep siren 
blasts, pricking lights in the haze. With frankly 
confessed eagerness, Doris stood with Bill in the 
bow^ of the ferry and gazed enraptured, her face 
pallid with emotion. 

Bill looked dowm at her, knew himself forgotten 
in that moment of blissful arrival into her dream 
world. A vague hurt, a slow understanding, 
sobered his face as he watched her. Then, like 
a blow that forces open a door. Bill saw. There, 
mirrored in her eyes, on the tremulous lips, glow¬ 
ing through the pallor of her cheeks, wms a joy, 
an incredulous rapture such as he himself had 
known, not once, but many times in the past 

146 


Bill Learns About Women from ’er 

weeks. Doris was trying to feel the reality of a 
dream come true. Bill remembered poignantly 
how he had struggled to express that emotion, and 
the paucity of words that had held him dumb. 

He had felt it when his lips first touched the lips 
of Doris; when she had said that she loved him. 
Doris — why, Doris had wanted to talk about the 
gold, about whatever came into her mind. Things, 
other than their love, could claim her thoughts, 
while he stood abashed before the miracle. He 
had thought that Doris was different. She didn’t 
show her feelings much; women were shy about 
love. It never occurred to him to question the 
depth of her love until that moment. 

‘ ‘ Why didn’t she have that look in her eyes — 
then? ’’ he thought sharply. He had never seen 
just this look in her face; no, nor anything ap¬ 
proaching that look. There was an answer, but 
Bill shut his mind against it. And then, as if a 
devil had prompted the words, Doris turned and 
spoke a sentence which Bill recognized. 

I was always scared to dream I’d ever actu¬ 
ally be here, ’ ’ she said, and her voice was hushed. 

Oh, Bill-dear, I’m so happy my heart just 
aches! 

‘‘ Are you, honey? ” Bill bit his lips and hid , 
something away where even his own heart must 
never find it. She had elaborated on his broken 

147 


The Parowan Bonanza 

speech there at Parowan Number One, but Bill 
set that down to a more versatile vocabulary. He 
too had been so happy his heart had ached; but 
he had not been able to find those words to say. 

Desert tan and mail-order trousseau hurt her 
pride terribly. She insisted upon a quiet hotel 
until the defects could be remedied but Bill only 
laughed at her vanity. He could call it that now, 
though he loved the trait, — since he could 
gratify it. 

When you Ve got a million dollars in your fist 
nobody ^s going to mind if you walk into the Pal¬ 
ace in a gingham dish apron, ’ ’ he told her 
shrewdly. “ And besides, if you had everything 
you think you need, you^d lose the fun of buy¬ 
ing.^’ He paused, glancing from the window of 
the taxi, — there were not so many, in those days. 

What do you like best, little lady, diamonds, 
pearls or rubies? 

All of them,^’ Doris stated solemnly. 

They laughed together, and Doris squeezed 
BilPs arm and said she was happy. 

Mrs. William Gordon Dale proved herself a 
capable young woman who could adapt herself 
quickly to changed circumstances and surround¬ 
ings. Once she discovered that desert tan can 
scarcely be distinguished from the carefully cul¬ 
tivated tan of ocean beaches, her self-conscious- 

148 


Bill Learns About Women from ’er 

ness melted into calm assurance. Likewise 
merged the mail-order trousseau into the almost- 
latest fashion of gowns, hats, cloaks, of a re¬ 
strained elegance and a clever adaptation to that 
indefinable thing she called her ‘‘ style and 
clung to with firmness in the face of gorgeous 
temptations. 

Wherefore, she arrived in Santa Barbara (Bill 
accompanying her, of course) with only five trunks 
and the sophisticated air of a girl who was born 
to luxury. 

You sure don’t look as if you’ve ever had 
your hands in dough,” w^as Bill’s way of putting 
it. ‘‘I never noticed your hands so much before. 
I always loved them, hut now I keep looking at 
them for their beauty.” 

<< There are arts and wiles. Bill-dear, that 
make a heap of difference. It just takes time 
and money — and I have loads of both. Weren’t 
those people lovely, that we met on the beach 1 ” 
Baker Cole and his wife? Yes, he struck me 
just about right. Human cuss, that you can slip 
an improper remark to without wishing you had 
kept your dam mouth shut and concealed your 
ignorance. I’m sick of being made to think that 
desert words put me in the natural-curiosity class. 
Darn ’em, I’ve had more education than half the 
Johnnies that give me the tolerant look. There 

149 


The Parowan Bonanza 

are men in this hotel with more money than IVe 

got, that say, ^ They told he and I-’ and nevep 

turn a hair. But if I forget to stand up when a 
woman comes within rifle shot, they look as if I 
had insulted their wives. Lord, little lady, IVe 
lived too long where there werenT any women! 
A fellow gets out of practice.’’ 

Doris came over and rumpled his hair with her 
meticulously manicured fingers that had won his 
astonished admiration. 

‘‘You know. Bill-dear, there’s another thing 
you forget. You must take soup from the side 
of the spoon; and peas, dear man, are eaten with 
a fork — out here.” 

“I know it — hut dam it, I like the juice. 
If I ain’t wealthy enough to take mine with a 
spoon. I’ll get out and rake in more money. 
Funny, isn’t it, Doris? In the desert I felt myself 
a Beau Brummel — as I understand that term — 
amongst the miners and prospectors I came in 
contact with. I was as good as anybody — better 
than some. Out here, they make me feel like a 
cave man with his first clothes on.” 

“I’m sure your manners are very good. Bill- 
dear,” Doris comforted him absently. “ Just a 
few little points to remember — things one never 
encounters in the desert. If you watch the others 

150 



Bill Learns About Women from ’er 

— at table, you know — and do as they do about 
which fork-’’ 

‘‘ Not on your life! (After six weeks of hotel 
honeymoon and their clothes inextricably mixed 
in the dresser drawers, and Bill constantly on the 
alert lest he hurt Doris ^ feelings, he could argue 
with his divinity quite as if she were human.) 
‘‘I’m not going to make a monkey of myself, copy¬ 
ing the fellow who sits across the table. I’ll do 
what’s comfortable for me and the rest of the 
bunch, and let it go at that. I don’t aspire to Ido 
any lady’s man, Doris, nor any society bird. Men 
like Baker Cole don’t grin behind their hands if 
you go first into the dining room and let your wife 
follow. I know — I saw you blush for shame last 
night, honey. But your old Bill wants to break 
trail for you all his life. It’s second nature for 
me to go first and see what’s ahead of us, and 
put it out of your way if it’s dangerous.” 

Doris laughed at him, showing the dimple in her 
left cheek, — with a faint film of powder distin¬ 
guishable there nowadays. 

“You dear old silly, just take this view of the 
matter, and it’ll help you remember the rules, 
maybe: I might be kidnaped behind your back, 
and you wouldn’t know it, stalking ahead of me 
the way you do. You’re supposed to shoo a lady 
gently before you down the aisle, and see that 

151 



The Parowan Bonanza 

handsome villains don cut in behind you. ’ ’ Her 
hand shpped down and patted his lean, freshly 
shaven jaw. 

Dear man, is the money holding out I she 
asked suddenly, coming at last to the thing that 
was foremost in her mind. 

Bill let his head drop back against the cushioned 
chair and laughed at her, his eyes half-closed and 
feasting on her face. 

You never wanted to ask that question as long 
as you lived,he reminded her teasingly. 

I know, dear. I don’t mean that I think 
we’re running short. I can’t begin to spend my 
share that John sends me. But you know, dear, 
we ’re needing more and more, as we get the hang 
of it. We keep finding out about things rich peo¬ 
ple have and do, that I’m sure I never dreamed 
of, in the desert. Most of them have things that 
date back to their fathers and grandfathers, and 
we naturally have to spend a lot, just bringing 
ourselves up to date. For instance, Mrs. Baker 
Cole is thinking about a new automobile and won¬ 
dering what kind she had better have. And Bill- 
dear— we haven’t even had our first, yet! ” 

Lord, what a world! ” chuckled Bill. And 
you’re wondering if we can have one. Honey, you 
wait and see what kind of an automobile Mrs. 
Baker Cole buys, and then you buy two just like 

152 


Bill Learns About Women from ’er 

it. Or else you find one that costs just twice as 
much as hers.’’ 

Don’t tease so, Bill. But really, I do want 
one. And I — miss Little Dorrit, sort of. 
There are beautiful trails here, winding around 
through trees, and I’ve noticed that the really 
nicest people ride every morning. I’ve wished, 
when I saw them starting out or coming back, 
that I could go, too. ’ ’ 

Do you want Little Dorrit, honey? ” Bill 
lifted the necklace of Parowan gold spun into the 
finest of twisted threads and set with emeralds 
that made her skin look whiter. Bill had stood 
over the jeweler while that necklace was being 
made, and the result was a happy one, 

“ Oh, no — Little Dorrit hasn’t got the style. 
I was wondering if we couldn’t buy a couple of 
saddle horses. I’m crazy about Mrs. Burlin¬ 
game’s riding habit. Bill — and I’ve got one 
planned that would beat it. And I know the tailor 
who made hers. And Bill, couldn’t we — no, I 
don’t want to take a house, either. Not yet. I 
don’t know enough of the nicest people, and 
couldn’t entertain. I’d rather just stay here for 
awhile longer. Wouldn’t you? ” 

Bill secretly loathed hotel life, and his heart 
had given a great thump when she almost wanted 
a house like the Burlingame’s. But he did not 

153 


The Parowan Bonanza 

mention either his loathing or his desire. Why 
should he ? His business was to keep Doris happy, 
to gratify every passing whim, except when the 
whim changed before gratification was humanly 
possible. 

They went together next day and chose an au¬ 
tomobile, and hired a chauffeur warranted to give 
satisfaction and promised a speedy demise if ever 
he forgot to drive cautiously when his mistress 
was in the car. 

In the new automobile they drove out to a 
famous horsebreeder^s place, and bought two sad¬ 
dle horsee, and Doris ordered her riding habit and 
was deliciously happy for several hours. Then 
she awoke to the fact that it was a sheer waste 
of money, time and energy to have no maid to 
look after her clothes and do her hair and fetch' 
and carry. Besides, Bill was getting acquainted 
with men and wanted to go here and there, look¬ 
ing up what he called ^ ‘ propositions, ’ ’ and Doris 
felt that it would look much better, and give her 
more real freedom, if she had a maid to accom¬ 
pany her on drives and at the beach- 

And then I wouldn’t have to keep an eye on 
my parasol and purse and book and bathrobe, 
and everything, Bill-dear,” she detailed, uncon¬ 
sciously justifying what she instinctively felt 
would not meet with Bill’s approval. My maid 

154 



Bill Learns About Women from ’er 

would look after everything while I was in the 
surf. That would be her business.^’ She was 
talking to BilPs hack, which made her uncomfort¬ 
able. She wished he would not stand staring out 
of the window, like that, while she talked things 
over with him. It was getting to he a regular 
habit. She always liked to see a personas face 
when she talked. 

You don’t mind, do you. Bill — if 1 have a 

maid ? All the nicest-’ ’ 

Anything your little heart desires! ” Bill 
said, turning abruptly and smiling steadfastly 
down at her where she was sitting on the floor, 
on a purple silk cushion, trying on a pair of satin 
slippers that didn’t seem to want to go on at 
the heel. He watched her, his eyes studying her 
flushed face and tousled hair. 

‘‘ I reckon you do need help,” he said, a dry¬ 
ness in his tone of which he was not quite aware, 
and which Doris missed altogether in her absorp¬ 
tion. ‘‘ If you had somebody to do all the things 
you spend your time on, maybe we could enjoy 
life — better,” he added hastily. We could be 
together more, couldn’t we? ” 

Together more? ” Doris looked up, the sil¬ 
ver shoehorn poised in her hand. Good gra¬ 
cious! Aren’t we together every single minute, 
almost? Bill, see if you can get this pesky slipper 

155 



The Parowan Bonanza 

on; the other one’s all right; they’re half a size 
too small, but they’re the only pair that just 
matches that new lace gown.” (Doris had al¬ 
ready learned to say gown and frock, and to avoid 
the word dress except as a verb.) 

Bill knelt and lifted the foot, thrilling again at 
the touch of her slim ankle. 

“ Do you remember the night you came to camp, 
all wet and cold, and — you let me unlace your 
boots? ” He smiled wistfully into her eyes. ‘‘ I 
was all a-tremble, honey — I had to keep my lip 
between my teeth, and bite down hard to steady 

me. I was so happy-” 

What about? The privilege of handling wet 
boot laces? ” Doris leaned and tried to push her 
toes farther into the slipper. 

They were your boot laces.” Bill’s soul 
withdrew from her matter-of-factness, much as 
Sister Mitchell used to draw into her shell at 
the first blast on the saxophone. 

I wonder if the housekeeper won’t have some¬ 
thing to stretch this slipper on,” said Doris. 

Can you find out, dear? I simply must make 
them do for to-night, or I can’t wear that gown. ’ ’ 
<< Why can’t you wear something else, then, 
and be comfortable? ” Bill set her foot on the 
floor and got up. ‘‘ You’d better take these back 
and change them.” 


156 



Bill Learns About Women from ’er 

‘‘ I can’t,’’ Doris said shortly. “ I’ve ordered 
our table decorated to harmonize with this par¬ 
ticular outfit. You don’t understand, Bill-dear. 
Men get the effect, all right, and call a woman 
beautiful or ugly or just so-so, and never dream 
that it’s because the details have been thought 
out, or haven’t. I’ve noticed things. I know ex¬ 
actly how women get that carelessly beautiful 
effect. It doesn’t just happen so, dear man. 
They spend hours, just thinking up the careless 
touches. 

Now, just to show you,” she expanded gra¬ 
ciously for Bill’s education, ‘‘ I have fallen into 
the habit of telling the head waiter that I’d like 
certain flowers, or whatever it is I choose, on our 
table for dinner. Then I dress accordingly. No¬ 
body knows it’s planned, but I’ll bet you, dear, 
they get the effect just the same. The stupid ones 
pile it all on their persons and merely look new- 
rich. You’ve never seen me look new-rich, have 
you. Bill? ” 

‘‘Not on your life.” Bill was startled into 
a fresh appraisal of his bride. Heretofore he 
had looked on, amused at her plunge into the 
pleasures of fashionable hotel life. Now it struck 
him suddenly that the slim, competent desert girl 
who could break a horse to the saddle or rope 
and brand a calf, bake pies and bread to make a 

157 


The Parowan Bonanza 

chef envious, was bringing that clever brain into 
action in a field entirely new to her, and was 
demonstrating the same clever competence which 
had distinguished her on the ranch. 

With a new respect for her intelligence he saw 
to the detail of having the slipper stretched. 
Afterward he observed that Doris had really 
achieved a small triumph of harmonious beauty. 
The table decoration did add something indefin¬ 
able to her own sweet self; something which 
caused the eyes of others to turn their way in 
unconscious tribute to her beauty, as one looks 
and looks again at any other charming picture. 
As a votary of wealth and fashion Mrs. William 
Gordon Dale was beyond criticism, destined to 
become a high priestess of the art of effective 
extravagance. 


158 


CHAPTER FOURTEEN 


BAKER COLE 

Baker Cole was a man who did his oto thinking 
and was willing that the other fellow should do 
the same; indeed, he was tolerantly disdainful 
when the other fellow failed to do the same. He 
was so rich that he did not think much about 
money, or judge a man by his Bradstreet rating. 
Money flowed toward Baker Cole apparently of 
its own volition. He had started life with a for¬ 
tune for his birthright, and he had gone on his 
way with a humorous philosophy which armored 
him against flattery, abuse or the deliberate at¬ 
tacks of other men whose fortunes equalled his 
but who were not content with another man^s 
well-being. 

Baker Coleys interest was first attracted to 
BilPs straight suppleness in the surf, and by the 
fact that, brown though he was to shoulders and 
chest. Bill was just learning to swim. Because 
of this incongruity. Baker Cole was given the op¬ 
portunity of grabbing Bill by the hair and saving 
him from a vicious undertow. He wondered a 

159 


The Parowan Bonanza 

bit, until he discovered that a man working in a 
sleeveless, low-necked undershirt under a desert 
sun may have the mark of a beach lounger burned 
into his skin. 

That accounts for your legs not being 
tanned.’’ Baker Cole hauled himself out of the 
surf like a big, good-looking seal, and lay puffing 
and looking Bill over. ‘‘ Wish I had muscles like 
yours,” he remarked, crooking his finger toward 
a young man who immediately hurried up with 
cigarettes and matches. Bill accepted a smoke, 
and the two began to talk. 

An hour later, they went toeing deep in the fine, 
loose sand to where a huge, striped umbrella hid 
all but a shapely, canvas-shod foot. Bill helped 
Boris to her feet and introduced Baker Cole, who 
appraised her shrewdly with one glance and de¬ 
cided that his wife would like her. 

That began the acquaintance. In a week, the 
Baker Coles and the William Gordon Bales (Boris 
had quietly insisted upon full names from the 
first hotel register, — and had put it over with 
complete success) were pairing off together quite 
naturally and without deliberate intent; which is 
the test of congeniality the world over. 

From a surreptitiously acquired paid teacher, 
Boris had learned bridge. She succeeded in teach¬ 
ing Bill, chiefly because he couldn’t bear to dis- 

160 


Baker Cole 

appoint her and because it gave him an oppor¬ 
tunity to watch her hands without betraying a 
fatuous admiration. He had learned that Doris 
considered open love-making bad form, and was 
acquiring a more restrained manner of worship 
in accordance with her expressed wish. Where¬ 
fore, Bill willingly learned bridge after hours in 
their rooms, when he was dead tired, and watched 
unobtrusively for some sign of weariness in the 
sweet face opposite him. The reward for that 
was a more complete intimacy between the Baker 
Coles and the William Gordon Dales. 

Bill could not remember afterwards just when 
or how Doris first found her pleasures apart from 
him. He saw that ‘‘ nice women were becom¬ 
ing her friends, and of course there were little 
parties and purely feminine gatherings to which 
Doris went with avid enjoyment. She would sit 
and tell Bill all about them afterwards, and Bill 
w^ould listen bewilderingly to detailed descrip¬ 
tions of gowns and refreshments and scores and 
prizes, and to gossip not qftite so harmless. 

Sometimes his thoughts would wander to cer¬ 
tain experiences of his own, — innocent experi¬ 
ences, though he did not tell her about them al¬ 
ways. Baker Cole was at present amused with 
the spectacle of money flowing out of crude oil 
pumped from the ground. It amazed even him to 

161 


The Parowan Bonanza 

see how fast the oil could turn into money. He 
called BilPs attention to the phenomenon, and 
Bill was immediately interested, and for reasons 
which he kept to himself. 

Through Baker Cole’s shrewd acquaintance 
with the game of directing and augmenting the 
flow of money. Bill turned tiny trickles toward 
his own bank account, and was amazed at the 
speed with which they became swift-moving 
streams. 

‘‘ Lord, I thought Parowan was a miracle I’d 
never see repeated, ’ ’ he confided one day to Baker 
Cole. Money commenced piling up before we 
started to move the gold. We laid out a town 
site, and people came in droves to buy lots and 
start building. It used to give me a chill at the 
chances they were taking. What if there wasn’t 
a real mine there? Where would the town get 
off ? Baker, if those men had lost on the gamble, 
who’d be responsible — me ? ’ ’ 

Baker Cole rolled a fragrant cigar between his 
lips and regarded Bill meditatively through half- 
closed eyes. 

Depends on what or who induced them to 
speculate, ’ ’ he said bluntly. ‘ ^ How did you work 
it. Bill? ” 

Bill shook his head and looked away to where. 

162 


Baker Cole 

breakers were beating white foam against a seg¬ 
ment of cliffs. 

'' Hell, I dunno,’' he confessed helplessly. I 
found the mine. Then some government men came 
along and advised me to incorporate and to lay 
out a tomi site. I got them to resign their posi¬ 
tions and take hold of it. We laid out the town 
site, and took some gold up- to Goldfield and 
showed it, and that started the parade. Folks 
tromped each other’s feet to get in.” 

What did you do then? Sell out? ” Perhaps 
Baker Cole knew, since he was an exceedingly 
well-informed man. But he waited for Bill to tell 
him. 

^ ^ No, I’m president of the company. They fixed 
things so I wouldn’t have to be on the ground, 
and we came out here to play around awhile.” 
Bill started to explain that he had not wanted to 
leave, but shut his teeth upon the words. That 
would be unfair to Doris. 

How are things going, with you out here? 
Got any idea? ” 

Bill grinned, with a worried look back of his 
eyes. 

<< Two railroads are busting a lung trying to see 
which one will whistle first at the depot,” he de¬ 
tailed laconically. I guess that tells the tale, 
doesn’t it? ” 


163 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Several/’ Baker Cole took out his cigar 
and looked it over carefully before he put it back 
in his mouth. 

The money keeps coming in,” Bill went on. 

Everything’s fine. We’re building a mill and 
that employs a good many men. A lot of com¬ 
panies have sprung up, claiming to have discov¬ 
ered gold — which I guess they have. The Paro- 
wcm Record comes out every Saturday, and 
there’s a bank and hotel — you know. It’s a town, 
I feel like a loafer,” he admitted ruefully. But 
the boys are doing all I could do, I guess. They 
say everything is running smooth, and the town’s 
a dandy — for a boom town. Soon as the rail¬ 
roads get there, so as to haul material faster, 
there’ll be some fine buildings go up. Contracts 
are let and all.” 

He sighed and looked around at Baker Cole, 
seeking understanding. 

^ ‘ Parowan kind of rides my neck, ’ ’ he said sim¬ 
ply. “ It’s all right — our mine is rich enough 
to hold it up till other mines get to producing — 
but I can’t help feeling responsible for it, just the 
same. I feel as if I ought to be on the job myself. ’ ’ 

The wife likes it here,” Baker Cole stated 
calmly. 

‘ Yes. She hates the desert. I wouldn’t take 

164 


Baker Cole 

her back there into that raw mining town — I 
wouldn^t think of snch a thing.’’ 

Baker Cole finished his cigar. Very deliber¬ 
ately he put out his hand, drew the ash tray closer 
and laid the cigar butt exactly in the middle of 
the tray, moving it twice, fractions of an inch to 
the center. Bill, his eyes fixed upon him, knew 
that Baker Cole was not conscious of tray, cigar, 
or mathematical measurements. 

‘‘ Bill, I’ve made money all my life,” he said, 
drawing a long breath as if an important mat¬ 
ter had been successfully accomplished. ‘‘ As far 
as it’s possible to make money honestly, I’ve made 
it. Silver in Mexico, copper in Michigan and 
Montana and Colorado, crude petroleum here in 
California; I’ve taken more millions from the 
ground. Bill, than you’d dare believe if I told 
you. Had half a million when I was born. Then 
I was taught how to take care of what I had — 
and I learned how to make more. 

^ ‘ This Parowan of yours, now, would be some¬ 
thing in my line; only, I’d want to take it in the 
start and handle it myself. I wouldn’t invest a 
dime in the other fellow’s game — not if he were 
my own brother. I’m not afraid of losing money 
— I canH lose money, seems like. It’s the game. 
I see a chance to get something out of the ground 
that the world has use for, and I go after it like 

165 


The Parowan Bonanza 

a dog after a ground squirrel. Money piles up 
when I’ve got it — but I’ve had the fun of the 
getting. And of course the money helps to play 
again. Dollars, you know, are mostly what you 
dig with. Dollars are the master tool of industry 
— and I don’t see why the working men howl so 
about the man that can furnish that master tool. 
You take Parowan, now. Leaving out the gam¬ 
blers that are risking their money, you’ve helped 
many a poor man to a job at top wages.^ Ain’t 
that so? ” 

I reckon it is,” Bill assented perfunctorily. 
a There’s always big wages wLere there’s a boom, 
and many a man got his start that way. But 
you’ve hit the spot that hurts. It’s the fun of 
doing things that I want. The money’s coming 
in fast enough for all we want, but I’m a loafer 
for the first time in my life. Baker. My Lord! 
Think of a grown man putting in day after day 
just taking a horseback ride in the morning and a 
swim in the afternoon; and calling that exercise I 

When I was prospecting. Baker, I put in 
my time from dawn to dusk, hiking over the hills 
or swinging a pick. I ate because I was hungry. 
Now, by gosh, folks don’t get hungry — they don’t 
give themselves a chance. They eat because some¬ 
body’s paid a big price to make grub taste good! 
This is a mighty pretty place to play around in, 

166 


Baker Cole 

Baker — but I can’t make a business of doing 
nothing.’^ He made himself a cigarette — rolling 
his own whenever he was not under Doris’ watch¬ 
ful eye — and lighted it absently. Doris likes 
this sort of thing,” he added pensively. It’s 
all right for women — but I’ll be damned if it’s 
any kinda life for a man! ” 

Baker Cole chuckled somewhere down in his 
chest and laid an impressive forefinger on Bill’s 
arm. 

‘‘You come on and play with me, in my game,” 
he invited. “ I can’t promise you won’t make 
money at it — but you’ll have fun.” 

“ I bet I would, at that,” said Bill. “ But my 
wife doesn’t want me to get into business. She 
wants me to run along and play,” It was the 
nearest that Bill had ever come to uttering a 
complaint. He did not realize that it was even 
distantly related to a protest against the future 
which Doris had mapped out for them. 

But as he spoke, he saw a swift, mental pano¬ 
rama of cities and shops and long, pillared, hotel 
corridors and suites furnished in velvet uphol¬ 
stery. He felt his feet sinking into the sickish 
softness of deep-piled carpets, and boys with 
bright buttons and little caps and silver trays 
dogging him with the prematurely calculating 
smirk. He saw long, shaded avenues down which 

167 


The Parowan Bonanza 

he was carried swiftly on cushions, — always 
cushions and carpets and a smothery, scented at¬ 
mosphere that sometimes nauseated him with its 
cloying sweetness. 

He shut his eyes, pressing his lips together in 
silent revolt against the picture. And there, 
sharply outlined before him, were the stark, bar¬ 
ren hills of the desert. Volcanic rubble in the 
foreground, and stunted sage, and a lizard duck¬ 
ing its head with a queer, ticking motion while 
it watched him from a rock; soft shadows lying 
at the foot of great boulders, and all the magic 
tints of distance; the two burros shuffling before 
him, picking their way daintily, setting tiny feet 
between the rocks; Sister Mitchell, homy and 
gray and solemn, clinging to the canvas with 
claws thrust out from her shell the size of a din¬ 
ner plate; and Luella, a vivid bit of green in the 
gray monotone, riding gallantly the pack of Wise 
One and talking gravely of things a parrot 
shouldn’t know; and Hez, solemnly herding the 
little company and believing himself indispen¬ 
sable, — Bill’s teeth came down hard on his under 
lip. 

You’re homesick,” Baker Cole’s voice shat¬ 
tered the vision for the moment. 

Bill swallowed and could not meet his eyes. 
He threw away his cigarette, gone cold between 

168 


Baker Cole 

his lips — bitten, too, in the sharp pain of re¬ 
membrance — and reached for his sack of 
tobacco. 

“ I want the crunch of gravel under my feet,’^ 
he admitted, smiling a twisted smile. The 
ocean kind of filled the hankering for distance — 

but I want to get out and walk and walk- Aw, 

hell! A man canT have everything at once. I 
had the desert, and all the while I dreamed of 
being rich and not having to eat beans and bacon. 
I was almost as sick of that country as Mrs. Dale 
was. But somehow — she takes to this life better 
than I do. She hates to be reminded of Nevada, 
and has been trying to coax her folks to sell out 
and come to the Coast. I don T blame her — not 
for one minute. It^s no place for a woman, back 
there. 

Baker Cole rose and flicked cigar ashes oif his 
vest. 

You’re dated up with me for a little trip down 
Bakersfield way,” he grinned. I’ll show you 
desert — and a game you’ll like to play. It’s 
going to be a stag party, so you’ll have to get your 
mfe’s permission. We’ll be gone a week, maybe. 
You’ll have to sleep on the ground and cook over 
a camp fire. Bring a roll of blankets, if you like. 
Can you make it to-morrow f ” 

Doris thought it was rather sudden. She had 

169 



The Parowan Bonanza 

several things on for the week, however, — things 
which Bill-dear would not enjoy at all. Moreover, 
she had learned that close friendship with the 
Baker Coles was like being favored by royalty, 
and the necessity of explaining that her husband 
was off somewhere with Baker Cole for a week 
would cause the other women to twitter enviously 
and draw her closer within their hallowed circle. 

‘‘ It’ll be awfully lonesome, dear man, but I do 
think you’ll enjoy the change. Don’t worry one 
minute about me. Bill-dear. With my maid and 
chauffeur, I shall be all right. And Mrs. Baker 
Cole has asked me to stay with her, if I feel at all 
strange here at the hotel. Perhaps I shall. I 
haven’t decided, yet.” 

Had she met the situation with a shade less 
equanimity. Bill would not have gone with Baker 
Cole. And that would have made a great differ¬ 
ence, later on. But Destiny has a way of pro¬ 
viding for the seemingly unimportant things of 
life, — which are never unimportant, whether we 
know it or not. He went with Baker Cole down 
into a region where men were pumping wealth 
from the ground deep under the sage-covered 
plains. His going was the beginning of several 
changes in Bill’s life. 


CHAPTER FIFTEEN 


Mary’s going to have a home! ” 

Bill sat in a deep chair and held out his arms. 
Timorously, as if she were taking a great risk, a 
white-capped nurse stooped starchily and placed 
within the curve of them a soft little bundle. Bill 
held his breath until the precious, warm little 
body lay cuddled against his chest. 

Once each day, for a stingy ten minutes or so, 
Bill was permitted to hold his daughter in his 
arms. Sometimes, if the nurse and Doris forgot 
their vigilance for a space. Bill could fumble and 
uncover the smallest, pinkest, squirmiest feet he 
had ever seen in his life. On one memorable oc¬ 
casion, when fire engines went clanging past the 
silk-hung windows, he had been left unobserved 
long enough to brush the soft pink soles against 
his lips. 

Little Miss Mary Dale was growing at the 
astonishing rate of a pound a week, which Bill 
considered phenomenal and told of whenever he 
decided that it would not be a breach of etiquette 
to admit that he was human enough to be proud 

171 


The Parovvan Bonanza 

of hie baby; which tells the story of BilPs servi¬ 
tude to conventions which he hated even while he 
meekly obeyed the rules. 

What Bill wanted to do was carry his daughter 
down into the lobby and show her otf to everybody 
who came in. Why not, since there wasn’t an¬ 
other baby ‘ in San Francisco that could come 
within a mile of her for looks and intelligence? 
What he did do was sneak up to the room set aside 
for the nursery — they were still living in a hotel, 
which at this particular time was the Palace — 
and pull down the silken coverlets and gaze at 
little Mary until he was discovered and shooed 
away. After two months of this. Bill was begin¬ 
ning to feel abused. She was his baby, as well as 
Doris ’. He believed that he had a right to look at 
her now and then, since Doris assumed the privi¬ 
lege of rocking her and talldng unintelligibly to 
her by the hour. 

Still, Bill was accustomed to carrying a proper 
sense of his limitations about with him. A year 
had convinced him that husbands didn’t amount 
to much, after all; that they were frequently a 
real obstacle to a woman’s pursuit of happiness. 
And since his whole soul was still fixed upon 
making Doris completely happy, he eliminated 
himself from the scene whenever he saw a certain 
look in the eyes of his wife, and ministered to her 

172 


“ Mary’s Going to Have a Home! ” 


happiness as nnobtrnsively as possible. One deep 
hurt remained with Bill, do what he would to 
forget it. Doris had not been pleased about little 
Mary, — until she had actually arrived and won 
her ovm place in the family. That had hurt Bill 
terribly and made his own eagerness seem a fault 
which he must hide as best he could. 

Well, women had their own ideas of things, 
their own hopes and ambitions. Doris didn’t 
seem to have had enough of the glitter of life, yet. 
She didn’t want to have a house and settle down 
to real home life. Bill was beginning to feel that 
he did not understand her at all. Home life would 
be lonely, she complained; would shut her away 
from the things she loved best. For instance, 
Doris never tired of the big, beautiful dining 
places with the music and the soft lights, the flash 
of jewels and the hovering, obsequious servants. 
She wanted the deference that bowed and waited 
for largess. She loved the smiles and the nods 
from rich diners at other tables. She loved to 
have her maid telephone to the steward that he 
would please lay so many extra covers at the Wil¬ 
liam Gordon Dale table. And would he please 
see that there were just a few orchids peeping out 
from dark-green foliage, massed very low, — that 
glossy green which Mrs. Dale likes so well? 

And then she liked to forget all about the din- 

173 


The Parowan Bonanza 

ner until the guests had actually arrived, and to 
know that the arrangements would be perfect to 
the slightest detail, — vnih Doris herself the most 
perfect part of it, smiling and showing the dimple 
in her left cheek, and sparkling across at her hus¬ 
band, addressing him humorously as Bill-dear. 
Doris, Bill observed (because the good Lord gave 
him powers of observation which worked auto¬ 
matically) had begun calling him Bill-dear openly, 
in social gatherings, immediately after she heard 
Mrs. Baker Cole say angel husband ’’ in an 
adorably quizzical tone that never failed to bring 
a smile. It rather spoiled the Bill-dear for him 
in private, but Doris never guessed that. 

Neither did she guess BilDs inner shame that 
his child should be born in a hotel. Bill flushed 
in secret over the thought that, years afterward, 
w^hen little Mary asked about her birthplace, her 
parents must refer her to suite E, Palace Hotel, 
— which had housed thousands before their baby 
opened her eyes there, and would house thousands 
after she had been carried away. Being bom in 
a hotel, in BilPs estimation, was a little better 
than being born on a train, but not much. 

So BilPs dream of a home with Doris — a place 
of their very own — seemed as far off as ever; 
and the fact that he could have bought a mansion 
fine enough even for Doris with the money he had 

174 


“ Mary’s Going to Have a Home! ” 


paid to hotel cashiers in the past twelve months 
did not help him to resignation. 

A nomadic life; a life that to Bill seemed in¬ 
excusably shiftless, temporary. They had 
sampled several hotels, in the several cities they 
had visited during the first few months. They 
were all alike, — luxurious shelters for the trav¬ 
eling rich. He went about thinking how all the 
other guests had homes somewhere; places where 
they dropped anchor occasionally, at least, and 
took stock of themselves. He began to try and 
hide the fact that he and Doris had no home; that 
they were always tagged with a number and their 
mail messed up with forwarding addresses. And 
now, here was little Miss Mary without a home 
that she could look back to afterwards with affec¬ 
tion. To Bill the thing was becoming a disgrace, 
the blame resting on his o^vn shoulders. He had 
promised Doris that she should live where she 
pleased. Now he owed another duty to his 
daughter. 

She’s beginning to notice things. Bill-dear.” 
Doris came up and sat on the arm of a near-by 
chair. “ To-day her eyes followed the flash of 
my rings — I tried her out, and she really did no¬ 
tice. Wake up, s’eepy thing! Show daddy how 
’em can smile! ” 

We’ll have to get a place of our own,” Bill 

175 


The Parowan Bonanza 

began tentatively, consciously treading thin ice. 

We can’t have her think a hotel like this is all 
the kind of home there is in the world. Honey, 
don’t you think a nice house up on the hill — or 

maybe in some other town-’ ’ 

Oh, Bill, please don’t start that! You’re 
gone half the time, almost — running around the 
country playing you’re doing important things. 
What would I do in a great big house with nobody 
around but servants? I’d go crazy, that’s all. 
And then, if we wanted to go somewhere, like New 
York or Europe, there would be the house to 
worry about. As it is, all we have to do is pack 
our trunks — and we can hire professional 
packers to do that. We have every comfort we 
could possibly have at home, and a lot besides. 
And I cm see people. Bill, without giving a din¬ 
ner or a card party or something. I’m going to 
have an at-home day — lots of permanent guests 
here do. And if I want to entertain, look at the 
advantages. 

‘‘ Besides,” she added artfully, you know 
you couldn’t keep in touch with men half so easily 
if you were struck off in a big house on Nob Hill 
or somewhere.” 

Bill did not answer for a minute. He was ap¬ 
parently quite absorbed with the baby’s hands; 
he had never seen such tiny, soft hands before. 

176 



“ Mary’s Going to Have a Home! ” 


I wouldn’t run around so much, honey, if I 
had a home,” he said quietly, looking up at Doris. 

Oh, fudge! Men with homes are gone more. 
You can’t fool me! I’ve heard the women talk 
who have homes. Their husbands are always 
gone somewhere, their servants are always steal¬ 
ing them blind or quitting, and the house is a 
white elephant. Besides, I don’t know where I’d 
like to live permanently. I can’t picture myself 
settling down in any one town — can you, Bill? 
Now be honest.” 

‘‘ Yes. Pare wan.” 

Well, she had wanted him honest, and she got 
the truth. Nor did she relish it, judging from the 
look on her face. 

‘‘ Parowan! Of all the places in the 
world-’ ’ 

‘ ‘ It’s where we got the money to spend here, ’ ’ 
Bill stated stubbornly. I’ve had some mighty 
happy times there, even if I did eat bacon and 
beans and hike a hundred miles after them some¬ 
times. It made our stake for us — that same 
Parowan. Only for that mountain, you’d still be 
hazing your dad’s cattle away from the loco 
patches, maybe, and helping your mother with 
the dishes. I don’t wish you were — I’m tickled 
to death that you can wear diamonds and hire a 
nigger to comb your hair for you. But just the 

177 



The Parowan Bonanza 

same, Doris, let^s not get our heads so high in 
the air we can^t see what Parowan ought to mean 
to us. 

This baby’s mine — and yours. We’ve got 
her, and we haven’t got a roof for her to sleep 
under, except what we hire by the week. Only 
for Parowan, we couldn’t have married at all; 
don’t forget that. You wouldn’t have married a 
poor prospector, and if you would, I wouldn’t 
have let you. It was the gold I found on that 
mountain side that made it possible for me to 
ask you to marry me. And it was the gold that 
made you say yes.” 

He swallowed as if there were some obstruc¬ 
tion in his throat and went on, staring straight 
before him, — seeing that cut in the gulch’s side, 
perhaps, and the slim girl in the stained khaki 
riding skirt and cotton shirt waist staring at the 
vein of yellow-flecked rock. 

You can’t think of any place where you 
want to give our child a home. Well, I can! 
She’s going to have one, vrhether it’s ever lived 
in or not. It’s going to be at Parowan, on the 
spot where her daddy lived when he found the 
gold that made her possible. I wouldn’t do it 
for you, against your wish. You like this froth, 
and I want you to have what you like best. But 
Mary^s going to have a home/^ 

178 


X 


“ Mary’s Going to Have a Home! ” 


He did not raise his voice; indeed he almost 
whispered the words. Yet they struck Doris like 
a lash. Never before had Bill opposed her wishes, 
or declared that he would do a thing which Doris 
had not first decided to do. 

You can’t take her away from me,” she said 
breathlessly. 

I don’t intend to take her away from you.” 
Bill’s tone was flat, emotionless, because he dared 
not slip the leash from his emotions. ‘‘ Some day, 
when she’s old enough to know what she’s miss¬ 
ing, the kid may want to come — home. There’s 
going to be one for her. It’s her right.” 

In that case,” said Doris coldly, why not 
build it in civilization, at least, where she can use 
it? ” 

‘‘I’m hoping,” said Bill, very quietly, “ that 
when my girl grows up she ’ll have some sense. ’ ’ 


179 


CHAPTER SIXTEEN 


so BILL GOES BACK 

Pakowan sprawled over the slope of the moun¬ 
tain without much regularity in her streets 
and with no dignity whatever. Bill had read 
faithfully each copy of the Parowcm Record as 
soon as he received it, and he had calmly be¬ 
lieved that he was keeping in close touch with the 
toAvn. For instance, he had studied the picture of 
the new, two-stoiy concrete schoolhouse with its 
graded yard and young shade trees and the 
cement walks and all. He had told Doris proudly 
that the building would reflect credit on any Cali¬ 
fornia town, — which was true, so far as the pic¬ 
ture went. 

Just at first he did not recognize the school- 
house as he came up the street from the pagoda- 
roofed, cement depot with its arches that pur¬ 
ported to be Moorish or Mission, no one seemed 
to know which. The depot had looked cunning in 
the picture, Doris had thought, and Bill had en¬ 
thusiastically agreed with her. It did not look 
so cunning in reality; merely pretentious in a 

180 


So Bill Goes Back 

cheap way that irritated him. When he failed to 
recognize the schoolhouse, a cracker-box edifice 
of ngly cement blocks surrounded by raw, nn- 
painted shacks, Bill was shocked. He had mis¬ 
taken it for the jail until he observed the absence 
of bars at the windows, and the trampled ground 
in front. 

He strode up the hoard walk — hastily laid, of 
cheap lumber and already showing wide cracks 
and broken sections where knot holes had weak¬ 
ened the wood and much trampling had done the 
rest. The Parowan Security and Trust Savings 
Bank stared at him from the next corner. This 
building he recognized the moment he saw it, and 
with reason. Parowan Consolidated occupied the 
entire front of the second story, and the building 
was printed in miniature upon the Company's let¬ 
terheads, with the sign showing distinctly across 
the upper windows. 

Across from the bank, the O^Hara House 
floated a green pennant with the 0 ’Hara in white 
upon it; which was the sign of the 0 ’Hara House 
in cities all through the West. Bill and Doris 
had tried one in Portland, and had found it al¬ 
most good enough for Doris, although two- 
rooms-and-bath were the best accommodations 
the place afforded, mth the bath connecting, 
which was terrible. But the cuisine was above 

181 


The Parowan Bonanza 

criticism. O’Hara food always was perfect and 
immaculately served. Nevertheless, Bill curled 
his lips at the sign and went into a grocery store 
and bought a can of tomatoes, a pound of coffee, 
a little flour and butter and onions and potatoes 
and such other supplies as he happened to see or 
remember, and called a loafing Mexican to carry 
the stuff to his old camp. Bill walking ahead with 
his suitcase to show the way. 

Tommy, it appeared, had been faithful to his 
trust. The camp was enclosed by a highboard 
fence, and there were signs which said, KEEP 
OUT ! ! THIS MEANS YOU! ! ” Bill grinned 
happily and had the Mexican set the things down 
by the gate and go back whence he had come, an 
extra dollar in his overalls pocket and a wide 
smile on his face. 

Tommy had sent the extra padlock key to Bill, 
perhaps in proof of his good faith. Bill opened 
the gate and was set upon with deadly intent by 
Hezekiah, who evidently failed to remember him 
until Bill spoke his name. Then his joy became 
hysterical and brought a lump into Bill’s throat. 

His tent stood just as he had left it, with the 
forge under the juniper tree and the dugotih 
cellar in the bank. His bunk was neatly spread 
with his blankets, though dust lay on the calico- 
covered pillow. His dishes were placed in orderly 

182 


So Bill Goes Back 

rows upon the box shelves, a pile of dry wood 
lay behind the cook stove. And from the ridge¬ 
pole, suspended by a bit of rope tied through the 
handle, hung a black leather case, — the silver 
saxophone. 

Bill laughed a little when he glanced up and 
saw the symbol of one secret hope, but there was 
no mirth in the laughter. He was thinking what 
a fool he had been to dream of playing ‘‘ Love’s 
Old, Sweet Song ” with Doris. Doris never sang 
nowadays. She would not sing the old songs Bill 
loved, because they were so absolutely back- 
woodsy and she did not seem to care about learn¬ 
ing the new ones. Besides, she explained, her 
voice had never been cultivated; an omission for 
which Bill thanked God in his heart, after hear¬ 
ing other women strain their vocal chords with 
technical skill and little melody. Doris did not 
even know about the saxophone. It seemed un¬ 
likely now that she ever would know. 

Bill started a fire, laid his coat across the pil¬ 
low, removed his cuffs and his collar and began 
to peel the potatoes. He missed Luella, but he 
knew that she was down in Tommy’s Place, in the 
back room where her speech would not be too cor¬ 
rupted, and he did not want to meet any one until 
he had eaten and smoked and planned exactly 
what he would do. Until he was actually on the 

183 


The Parowan Bonanza 

ground he could not choose a site for the home 
he meant to build, — a home worthy his little 
Mary. 

Doris had not seemed to mind his coming, and 
she had made no open objection to his errand. 
She had adopted a neutral attitude, a slightly 
tolerant manner toward Bill and his plan. If he 
wanted to build a house for the baby, years be¬ 
fore the baby would be able to appreciate the gift, 
that was his own affair. She supposed he realized 
that the house would be all out of date long be¬ 
fore Mary was big enough to live in it, — and 
did he actually mean to furnish the thing? 

It^s going to be ready to step into and hang 
up your hat and the baby’s bonnet, before I leave 
it, ’ ’ Bill had assured her steadfastly. ‘ ‘ Whether 
you ever see the inside of it or not makes no dif¬ 
ference. That will be up to you, honey. But I’m 
going to do my part. I’ll make the home.” 

Well, he was here for that purpose. He had the 
plans in his suitcase, and the builders had ordered 
the material and shipped two carloads. He was 
to choose the site and wire whether Parowan 
could furnish cement workers competent to lay 
the foundation. He had left only one thing un¬ 
done: he had not told any one in Parowan that 
he was coming. Wherefore, he was surprised to 
hear the gate open and shut, and to see Tommy 


So Bill Goes Back 

presently thrust his spectacled face belligerently 
into the tent opening. 

‘'An’ it’s yerself, is ut, Mr. Dale? ” Tommy 
stood within the tent, gogghng at Bill, his leathery 
face relaxing into a wide grin. “ I was toold uh 
somewan makin’ hisself free wit’ this place, an’ 
I left Dugan in charrge of the s’loon an’ come 
along over t’ have it out wit’ the boorglar. I did 
that! ” 

For the first time in months, the old, sunny 
twinkle was hack in Bill’s eyes. He would not 
have believed that he would ever be so glad to 
see Tommy. 

“ You go back and get Luella, dam yuh,” he 
commanded, trying to be harsh about it. “ And 
don’t let on I’m back, will you, Tommy? I want 
to surprise the boys. If you haven’t eaten, we’ll 
have a real feed. Good old onions and spuds fried 
in bacon grease! ” 

“ I’ve been stoppin’ at the O’Hara House, Mr. 
Dale,” said Tommy stiffly. “ They set a foine 
table — they do, that! Pie an’ ice cream hot’ at 
the same meal, Mr. Dale, an’ no extry charrge 
fer that same. I been settin’ the buttons forrard 
on my vest since I been boardin’ wit’ O’Hara, 
an’ it’s the trut’ I’m tellin’ yuh now.” He took 
a step toward the doorway and stopped, loath to 

go. 


185 


The Parowan Bonanza 

An’ if it’s the gin’ral manager nh Parowan 
yuli mean t’ supprise, Mr. Dale, yuh’ll do that 
same or I mistake. I ast ’im yisterday was yuh 
ever comin ’ back t ’ take holt, an ’ he says you was 
too busy makin’ the money fly. An’ I says to 
him, I says, ‘ It’s to Parowan he sh’d come fer 
that, ’ I says, ‘ fer I never in all my bom days seen 
the like.’ ” 

Bill rescued the coffee from boiling over. 

Thought I was going broke or something, 
did he? ” 

I dunno as to that, Mr. Dale. But he says 
you bin makin’ it fly, an’ c’llectin’ yoor share fast 
as it comes in, he says. I take it he meant you 
been cuttin ’ a wide swathe, Mr. Dale — which no¬ 
body’s got a better right, that I know. The best 
has been none too good, he says to me, an’ named 
over the hotels yuh been boarding at. An ’ phwat 
business it was uh hisn I dunno, fer it’s yer own 
money yuh been spendin’. An’ I toold him that 
same, I did.” 

‘‘I’m going to spend some more too,” Bill de¬ 
clared, and smiled queerly to himself. 

“ Yuh’ll never spend more than yuh’ve got, 
Mr. Dale — well I know that,” drawled Tommy. 
“ My last dime’d back that statement. It would 
that. An’ it’d be well if I could put my good 
money on some others — which I would not.” 

186 


So Bill Goes Back 

With that somewhat cryptic observation, Tommy 
withdrew to bring the parrot. 

Bill sat himself down to what he considered the 
most satisfying meal he had eaten in many a 
day. He was not a primitive soul, fit only to 
enjoy the crnder things of life; but there was 
something within him that rebelled against smiles 
and handshakes where no good will begot them, 
and at the servility of hotel servants hoping for 
tips, and the insipid, painted faces of women who 
bared their shoulders and whispered malicious 
gossip behind jeweled hands. He could remem¬ 
ber some wonderful evenings filled with music 
or the genius of great actors picturing life be¬ 
fore him on the stage; and he could also remem¬ 
ber evenings when he had been too bored and re¬ 
sentful to see the humor that lay beneath the 
surface of the peacock parade. And more than 
anything else, Doris had made mealtime an oc¬ 
casion for studied display that should seem un¬ 
conscious. He had come to dread dinner 
especially. 

Wherefore he enjoyed his onions and potatoes, 
his stewed tomatoes and fried com all the more 
because he knew how certain eyebrows would lift 
in astonishment could their owners look in upon 
the wealthy William Gordon Dale, and see how 
he was enjoying his plebeian fare. 

187 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Doris would like a taste of this grub/^ he 
told himself gayly as he filled his plate the sec¬ 
ond time. She’s hypnotized now with the nov¬ 
elty of it — dazzled with the glamor. But it’s no 
natural life for anybody that has lived the real 
thing; seen life stripped down to reality. It’s 
all pretense — and Doris is more than half pre¬ 
tending, herself. Pretending she likes that sort 
of thing — when she’s probably half homesick, 
right now, for the desert, and won’t admit it. 

Wait till she sees the house I’ll build for her! 
No great barn of a place that she couldn’t use, 
out here — but a jewel of a home. Everything 
she likes that will fit in here. 1 know! I’ve 
watched her eyes when we struck some new place. 
Big, rock fireplace — Parowan rock; beamed ceil¬ 
ings, broad stairway, hardwood floors — great, 
long stretches of space with arches — and a big 
window framing the desert like a picture. What 
she calls a vista. I know — you bet I know! She 
thinks I’m going to build some darned box of a 
place, perhaps of cement. I let her think so. It’ll 
be all rock, and glass, and hardwoods that will 
last a century and longer. 

“ I’ll find a hillside where the town won’t be 
right under her nose, and I’ll frame a vista for 
her with every vdndow in the house! She can 
have house parties, if she wants to — lots of those 

188 


So Bill Goes Back 

city folks would be crazy to come and spend a 
week or two over here. In fact, they Ve thrown 
out hints about it, some of them — only Doris 
wouldn’t take it that way. 

Thingsdl grow, here,” he went on, thinking 
and planning more hopefully than he had done 
for months. Idl have grounds laid out, and 
things planted that will make our home a garden 

spot. It may cost something, but-” He 

grinned then, and offered Hez a bacon rind and 
held his chops for a minute so that he could gaze 
deep into his eyes. 

Hez, you old devil, I believe you^re kind of 
glad I came home,” he said, and lingered wist¬ 
fully on the last word. You can be bodyguard 
for little Mary, when she gets to toddling around. 
Idl have to put a fence around the place to keep 
her in, I expect. YouM take care of the snakes 
and scorpions and such, wouldnT you, old boy? 
Never saw a bug get away from you yet.” 

Tommy came, with Luella riding solemnly on 
his shoulder. Bill rose to greet her, having been 
schooled in his deportment toward ladies. Luella 
craned her neck and eyed him suspiciously while 
he coaxed her, then remembered and stepped 
gravely upon his inviting forefinger. 

‘ ‘ I dl be damned, ’ ’ she observed, looking at him 

189 



The Parowan Bonanza 

with her head tilted. Look who’s here! ,When 
did you get in? ” 

You can’t tell me this bird ain’t human,” 
Bill exclaimed much impressed by the remark. 

She’s heard that talk in the s’loon,” Tommy 
discounted her intelligence. If she don’t speak 
worse things I’ll be contint. Your turkle’s gone, 
Mr. Dale. I’m thinkin ’ she’s wandered away, an ’ 
I’ve a reward out fer her — if it’s a her, which 
I dunno — an’ I’m hopin’ she’ll be returrned to 
yuh. It’s a week ago she disappeared—she did 
that. ’ ’ 

Holed up for the winter, maybe. They do, 
you know. ’ ’ 

That’s a hell of a note! ” cried Luella 
sharply. 

Well, I must be gittin’ back, Mr. Dale. An’ 
'‘when it pleases yuh, maybe yuh’ll step into my 
place an’ have a bit of a drink on the house. An’ 
I’ll be proud to see yuh enter the door — I will 
that. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ First place I hit. Tommy, will be yours. And 
mind you, I want to surprise the boys.” 

It’s the town itself ’ll be glad to see yer face, 
Mr. Dale,” Tommy muttered and went otf, wag¬ 
ging his head. 

Bill was trying to persuade Luella to kiss him, 
and did not hear. 


190 


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 


BILL GIVES THE PUBLIC MIND A LIFT 

Bill brushed past the sleek-haired office girl 
who attempted to bar his way and turned the knob 
on the door marked PRIVATE. He did not know 
which man he would find within; he was slightly 
relieved to find Walter Rayfield sitting behind a 
great, mahogany desk, staring at him in blank 
astonishment. 

Hullo, Walter.’’ Bill crossed the room, his 
hand outstretched in greeting, the old, humorous 
grin on his face that had lost much of its tan. 

“ Well, well! The prodigal come home for the 
fatted calf? ” Rayfield pulled himself together 
and rose, his lips pursed. Veal’s bringing a 
good price. Bill. Have to make it a small calf.” 

Bill did not know what he meant by that; 
nothing, probably, unless he was aiming at a 
witty remark. A year had made a difference in 
Walter B. Rayfield. He was fatter, and there 
were heavy pouches under his eyes. The milky 
one was almost hidden under a drooping lid, which 
gave him a facetious appearance of winking slily 

191 


The Parowan Bonanza 

at whomever he chanced to be looking. His face 
had hnes graven deep by the responsibilities of 
the past months. Altogether, Walter Rayfield 
looked older and less paternal, Bill thought. 

^ ‘ How are things going ? ^ ^ Bill sat down in the 
chair pulled close to the desk and reached for 
his tobacco and papers. According to the 
Record, things are still humming at Parowan. 

Bayfield glanced down at a pile of correspond¬ 
ence on the desk. Then, knowing that Bill would 
probably stay until he had smoked one cigarette 
at least, he pushed the tray back resignedly and 
leaned forward, his fingers lightly clasped and 
tapping one another rhythmically. 

“ Things are humming,” Bayfield confirmed 
guardedly. “ I suppose you read of our shut¬ 
down to replace certain machinery? ” 

‘ ‘ Sure. That was last summer, sometime. Got 
it in, yet? ” 

Bayfield shook his head. ‘‘ Those things take 
time,” he said. ‘‘ Stock has fallen off a few 
points in consequence — naturally. And how is 
Mrs. Dale and daughter? ” 

Just fine. Doris sent regards.” 

Which I return fourfold.” Bayfield smiled 
gallantly. ‘‘ When are you going back? Of 
course, I take it you did not bring them with you. ’ ’ 
‘‘ No, I didnT bring them. TheyTe camped at 

192 



Bill Gives the Public Mind a Lift 

the Palace for the ^viIlter. I going to stick here 
for awhile/' Bill glanced out of the window and 
down into the squalid street, and wondered how 
Doris would like that particular vista. He did 
not see the peculiar stiffening of the muscles along 
Bayfield's jaw. 

Going to stay? That's great news, Bill. 
Come back to try and speed things up, I 
suppose? " 

Bill looked at him. Did Walter resent his com¬ 
ing, as betraying a lack of confidence in the pres¬ 
ent management? His tone had sounded mildly 
aggrieved. 

No need of that, is there? Things seem to be 
going all right, far as I've heard. No, Walter, I 
came back to take charge — of building us a home 
here. I'd like to see a plan of the town and look 
over any available ground left in the residence 
district. I'll want a full block, at least; high 
ground, where there's a view of the desert and 
the hills. I expect it will take a few months to 
build it, but I'm going to rush it right through. 
And say, by the way! Can you tell me whether 
there's anybody in town that's able to lay the 
foundation? I've got all the plans and specifica¬ 
tions — copies of them — with me. I'm going to 
have the builders come on from San Francisco, 
but they're just finishing up a contract now, and I 

193 


The Parowan Bonanza 

can save time by having the foundation ready 
when they’re free to come. Think I’d better take 
bids on it, or just give the contract to the best 
man? A few dollars, one way or the other, won’t 
make any difference. I want a good job; one 
that’ll stand forever.” 

Rayfield’s mouth had opened slightly in the 
beginning, and had closed in his genial smile. The 
paternal look was back in his face. 

‘ ^ My, my! That will be great news to the town, 
it surely will! I’ve had some little trouble, Bill, 
convincing people that you hadn’t just made your 
clean-up and«quit the toAvn cold. When it’s known 
that you are back and building a home, that will 
silence all criticism.” Eayfield nodded and 
drummed his fingers animatedly. 

‘ ‘ Criticism — of me ? ’ ’ Bill’s face clouded. ‘ ‘ I 
thought you kept writing I wasn’t needed.” 

^‘Perfectly true. Unless you feel that John and 
I have shown that we are incompetent, you are 
not needed at all. But you know people will talk 
— and with you gone so long and shoving no in¬ 
terest, it began to look to some of the leading 
business men as if you had — well, unloaded.” 

What Bill would have replied to that was not 
known. They were interrupted by the entrance 
of John Emmett, who had evidently been in a 
hurry, but forgot his haste to stare at Bill. 

194 


Bill Gives the Public Mind a Lift 

a 'j['j] 2 i 0 j came home,^^ said Bill, getting np to 
shake hands. Everybody looks as if I were a 
ghost that onght to get hack under my marble 
monument and stay there.’’ 

Not at all,” Emmett protested. Your back 
was to the light, and I couldn’t make out who you 
were, at first. Well, how are you? ” 

News for the tovm, John,” Bayfield inter¬ 
rupted briskly. Bill’s here to build a fine home 
for his family. I’ve promised to help him look 
up a building site, and get a contractor on the 
job io lay the foundation. Going to start right 
away — that right, Bill? I got the impression 
you were in something of a hurry to begin. ’ ’ 

Emmett looked from one to the other and 
laughed a little. 

Thought you’d come to fire us because we’re 
about to pass a dividend,” he said. was just 
writing you to that effect.” 

Bayfield pursed his lips. ‘ ‘ Bill is not a child, ’ ’ 
he said reprovingly. He knows dividends 
aren’t paid out of extension costs. Once we’re 
running full blast again, we’ll be paying double 
what we have in the past, and Parowan Consoli¬ 
dated will soar again. We’ve done well to pay 
last quarter’s dividends — with the mill shut 
down and the men out on strike.” 

195 


The Parowan Bonanza 

I didn’t know we’d had a strike,” Bill said 
inquiringly. 

Eayfield threw back his head and laughed 
silently. 

Well, it was sort of hushed up in the paper, 
naturally. The men did walk out — and we seized 
the opportunity to make the necessary changes 
and repairs in the plant. John and I were rather 
glad, on the whole. Saved us laying men oif, which 
would have looked bad. Company wasn’t out a 
dollar on the strike, and to keep the stockholders 
easy in their minds, we paid last quarter’s divi¬ 
dends out of our sinking fund. Now, because the 
alterations are taking longer than vre expected, 
' we have thought it best to pass this dividend and 
explain just why. Your appearance, with the in¬ 
tention of building a home in Parowan, should 
counteract any ill effect on the public mind. ’ ’ He 
stopped and looked at Bill inquiringly as a 
thought seemed to strike him suddenly. 

You — er — you have sufficient funds, I take 
it, to carry out your plans,” he ventured. “ Be¬ 
cause, in the event that you haven’t, I should 
strongly advise you to postpone your building 
until the mine is producing again. These repairs 
and changes run into money, my boy, and the 
Company will not be able to advance anything, 
I’m afraid, for another three or four naonths. I 

196 


Bill Gives the Public Mind a Lift 

was on the point of writing you to trim sails a 
bit — until we are turning the wheels again/^ 
Bill chewed his lip thoughtfully, turning his eyes 
again to the window. 

I^m safe on the building, I reckon,^’ he said, 
after a pause which was not too comfortable for 
the others. I saved that out.^^ He turned 
toward them smilingly. She’s going to be a 
dandy, too,” he said. Parowan will sit up and 
take notice when my shack is finished. Not so 
very big, you know — but a gem all the way 
through. I’ve calculated to put about seventy- 
five thousand dollars into the building itself. 
She’ll stand me a round hundred thousand when 
she’s ready to walk into. 

His partners looked at each other. Eayfield 
sucked in his breath sharply. 

‘‘ My, my! And I was afraid you were short 
of money! ” he chuckled, when he had recovered 
his breath. Bill, you’re a wonder. Way you’ve 
been living-” 

About all the money I’ve spent,” said Bill 
grimly, ^ ‘ is on hotel biUs — and a few trinkets 
for Doris. Her income that you have been send¬ 
ing her she spent on clothes and truck. Didn’t 
give me a chance. She liked to spend her own 
money, she said. So — I can build the house, all 
right. I’ve got money enough.” 

197 



The Parowan Bonanza 

And what about your wife? Rayfield spoke 
unguardedly. She won’t he getting any more 
from this office, for awhile.” He waved a depre¬ 
cating hand. Pardon my apparent presump¬ 
tion, Bill. I merely want to make sure that you 
can ride along for the next ninety days or so 
without any money from us.” 

Why, sure! That’s all right, Walter. I 
don’t gamble or drink, you see. And I didn’t play 
the races — which is gambling, too. So I didn’t 
get away with all you sent me. I can make out 
all right for awhile.” 

He rose and picked his hat olf the desk. 

I’ll be going, I reckon. You’ve got work to 
do — hope your salaries will go on? ” he looked 
at them. 

Yes — oh, yes. It’s only the dividends that 
must be omitted this quarter,” Eayfield hastened 
to assure him. 

Well, that’s all fine, then. I’m afraid you’ll 
have to go on earning your money. I’ve got this 
house to build, and I want to see that it’s built the 
right way. I’m going to stand guard over them. 
Just now, I’m going downstairs and have an 
account opened for me. I’ve got the house money 
with me, and if it’s in the bank, Parowan will 
know I’m not four-flushing about the home. If 
the public mind needs a tonic, that oughi to help. ’ ’ 

198 


Bill Gives the Public Mind a Lift 

Rayfield stood up and leaned with his knuckles 
on the desk. 

It will help amazingly/' he said solemnly. 
‘‘ It will serve to instil new life in the commercial 
veins of this to^vn. I tell you frankly, Bill, I did 
not like to pass this dividend just now, when the 
town has passed the first fever of enthusiasm and 
should be stimulated to go on with full confidence 
in the future. The fact that you have sufficient 
confidence to invest in a fine house here will have 
a tremendous effect on the morale of the town." 

All right," Bill grinned. I'll go slide a 
pinchbar under the public mind and give it a lift. 
And say! Who's the best man to talk foundation 
to? " 

‘ ‘ Fellow name of McGaran,'' Emmett told him 
promptly. You'll find his sign down the street 
in the next block. He did our cement work, and 
he's a good man." 

Bill went out and down the stairs, humming a 
little tune just above his breath. Presently, the 
president of the Parowan Security, Trust and 
Savings Bank was giving his hands a dry wash 
and smiling and bowing at almost everything BiU 
said. Teller, cashier and assistant cashier were 
bustling out of sight with slips of paper in their 
hands, looking extremely important until the 
ground-glass partition hid them from the front, 

199 


The Parowan Bonanza 

and whispering then, heads close together, with 
the bookkeeper, trying his best to edge in a ques¬ 
tion or two. 

^ ‘ Bill Dale — he ^s here — just deposited sixty- 
thousand dollars, cashier ^s check from the Hi¬ 
bernian, in ’Frisco! ” The teller took hurried 
pity on the bookkeeper. “ He’s with the boss 
now. Come out in a minute and consult me about 
a check, and take a look at him. Boy, he looks 
like a regular fellow! ” 

The bookkeeper almost missed him, at that. 
Bill was having his busy day. Before the bank 
employees quit buzzing. Bill was conferring with 
McGaran about cement and making time the es¬ 
sence of the contract, as lawyers say. 

From McGaran’s office Bill went to a place said 
to be the Town-site Office, — just behind the bank, 
it was. And in fifteen minutes he was riding a 
hard-driven automobile over slopes which had 
furnished scant grazing for his burros not so long 
ago. For himself he would have built the house 
beside his tent, but for Doris that wouldn’t do at 
all. The working class had crowded into that part 
of town, because it was close to the mine. Where¬ 
fore, Bill examined vacant plots far removed from 
the grime and the noise of money-getting. 

Before noon he had acquired personal title to a 
knoll not too far from the business section, nor 

200 


I 


Bill Gives the Public Mind a Lift 

so close that any part of the magnificent sweep of 
desert and distant mountains could ever be hidden 
from the windows and wide porches of his Mary^s 
home. Laying aside his sentiment for his old camp 
ground, and trying to see all this with the eyes 
of Doris and, later, of his little Mary, Bill looked 
long and said to himself that he had done well. 

By then, all Parowan knew that Bill Dale had 
returned and meant to start immediately upon the 
building of a mansion. A new light shone in the 
eyes of certain men who had been looking 
anxiously for some sign in the heavens to tell them 
whether the prosperity of Parowan would break 
or hold. 

For this there was a reason. Other prospects 
had been exploited far beyond their deserts. 
Their little bubbles had glowed iridescent for a 
time, and were going the way of all bubbles. 
Parowan Consolidated was the only real mine 
behind the town, the one big industry that could 
hold prosperity upon the mountain side. Other 
small camps had appeared in near-by canyons, 
desert mushrooms more or less poisonous to the 
unwary. 

At first it had been believed that the gold Bill 
Dale had found would be uncovered elsewhere in 
the district. The promoters of Parowan had care¬ 
fully fostered that belief, and even yet the men 

201 


The Parowan Bonanza 

on the outside were unaware of the fact that cer¬ 
tain other opulently named companies were rid¬ 
ing precariously up the tail of Bill Dale’s kite. 
They advertised their properties as being ad¬ 
joining the Parowan Consolidated properties,” 
and sold stock on the strength of that statement 
rather than because of any particular value in 
their own claims. And the Parowcm Record was 
doing all that any boom-town newspaper could do 
to discourage discouragement and foster faith 
in the district. 

There was meaning in Bayfield’s declaration 
that the passing of a dividend by Parowan Con¬ 
solidated was unfortunate at that particular time, 
and that the coming of Bill was likely to prove a 
godsend to the town. 

The business men watched Bill covertly for a 
time, still anxious. Then, when material for the 
big house began to arrive, and expert builders 
from the city; when trucks and men were busy 
on the knoll, certain of the watchers breathed 
freer and relinquished certain secret plans they 
had been making to leave Parowan as quietly as 
possible while they could pull out with a profit. 

Bill himself was enough to put heart into the 
most timorous. He was so happy to be back and 
to be building his home that his voice lifted the 
spirits and set men to smiling at nothing in par- 

202 


Bill Gives the Public Mind a Lift 

ticular. The twinkle was back in his eyes; his 
langh was a tonic. With Hez slouching along 
at his heels and Luella riding his shoulder, he 
walked the streets and had a word for every man 
who met his eye with friendly glance; bossed the 
job of the building. When he made brief visits 
to Doris and the baby, Parowan was uneasy until 
he returned. 

The passing of the dividend created scarcely a 
ripple of comment, since Bill Dale was there, 
spending money on a home, and since Bill said 
that Parowan Consolidated was merely getting 
ready to shovel out the gold in chunks. 

Can’t pay dividends, boys, when we’re spend¬ 
ing money on new machinery, ’ ’ he said easily, be¬ 
lieving it all in the bottom of his heart. 

Those who had begun to sell a little of their 
Parowan stock wished they had kept it. And 
those who could, bought more. Four times par 
they paid for it, and called it a good investment. 
Bill told them that it was beyond question a deep, 
rich, permanent mine, and that as long as he had 
anything to do with it, Parowan was not going to 
turn a dishonest dollar. 

That winter the town continued to grow and to 
prosper. And on the fourteenth day of February 
Parowan Consolidated asked for extra guards for 
the express car, and made a valentine shipment 

203 


The Parowan Bonanza 

of gold. Almost immediately, stockholders were 
notified that the regular dividend would be made. 

So Parowan had passed its critical period of 
uncertainty and was accepted as a permanent 
town that might even rival Goldfield and Tonopah 
in wealth, give it a little time. 


204 


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 


THE YABH AL FREEMAN TOLD 

Al Freeman, slouched forward on a box, 
dangled a cold cigarette from his loose lips and 
gave Bill the slinking, slant-eyed regard of a 
trapped coyote. Behind him. Tommy stood grim, 
with his under jaw lifted and thrust forward in 
a comical attempt to look as deadly as he felt. 
Thrust within the waistband of his sagging gray 
trousers was an ivory-handled revolver which 
had lately done its share toward intimidating the 
man before him. Bill held his underlip between 
his teeth, lest he smile and so spoil a dramatic 
situation evidently quite precious to the little 
Irishman, whom Nature had never meant for a 
swashbuckling hero. 

Spake up, now! ’’ Thus Tommy cracked the 
whip of authority over Al. Tell F Mr. Dale 
phwat I heard yuh tellin^ F Jack Bole in my sdoon 
— an^ tell it the same er Vll let the dayhght 
through yuh! I will, that.’’ He rolled the words 
out with unction, with an eye canted up through 
his glasses to observe the effect of his harshness 

205 


The Parowan Bonanza 

upon Bill. A small boy patting a tame bear 
could never have felt himself more dare-devilishly 
courageous. 

^ ^Tis a foine tale I heard him tellin’, Mr. Dale, 
an’ one that concerns you an’ yoors. I’ll have it 
outa him, never fear.” 

Shall I heat the poker Tommy? ” Bill’s tone 
was innocent, if his eyes were not. Or have 
you put the fear of the Lord in him already? ” 
^‘Aw, he ain’t able t’ scare a rabbit,” A1 pro¬ 
tested with an ingratiating smile that managed 
to make itself mighty unpleasant, in spite of him. 

What I tolt Jack Bole I’m willin’ t’ tell you, 
Mr. Dale — only I wisht to say that I never meant 
yuh no harm, an’ fur as I kin see I ain’t done yuh 
no harm neither. You made yer pile, an’ I was 
only tryin’ t’ make a livin’ best way I could. An’ 
seein’ yo’re rich an’ I’m broke, I cain’t see as I 
done ye no harm. Which I wouldn’t of wanted 
t ’ do yuh nohow. ’ ’ 

Clear as the Colorado River in flood time,” 
Bill made cheerful comment. Let’s have the 
story, and never mind the footnotes. Go ahead. 
I’ll keep Tommy otf your back — if I can. He’s 
a hard man to stop, once he gets started, but I’ll 
protect you if possible.” 

Whereat Tommy scowled and clamped his jaws 
together anew, not perceiving the joke. And his 

206 


The Yarn A1 Freeman Told 

I 

captive, actuated by motives of his own, proceeded 
to tell his story, which startled Bill more than he 
would like to own. 

Since APs illiterate speech is not particularly 
attractive and his manner of telling the tale weari¬ 
some with a frequent sez-e and sez-I, here is the 
gist of the matter which Tommy had thought fit 
for BilPs ears and best attention: 

In coming to Parowan as packer for the govern¬ 
ment research men, A1 had come with instructions 
to do exactly what he had done. He declared that 
the sole object of Bayfield and Emmett had been 
to discover what value there was in BilPs claims. 
They had been first attracted by the parrot, talk¬ 
ing unguardedly in Goldfield — A1 here repeated 
almost verbatim what the parrot had said, since 
Jim Lambert had jotted down the sentences and 
had seen fit to study them seriously — and had 
laid their plans carefully before ever they left the 
town. 

A1 said that he was taken up to Jim LamberPs 
office, and there he first heard of the scheme, 
agreed to play his part in it and was promised an 
interest in all that was gained. The three had 
followed Bill, keeping well out of sight. They had 
done this because they did not know just where 
he was going, — Parowan being a large mountain 
with wide shoulders and many gulches and can- 

207 


The Parowan Bonanza 

yons. They had timed their arrival so as to take 
advantage of the storm and share BilPs shelter, 
whatever it was. This, A1 said, was intended to 
induce intimacy and the exchange of confidences. 

They were to secure samples, and what details 
they could, whereupon A1 was to carry off the 
camp equipment and leave Bayfield and Emmett 
stranded there, so that Bill must take them in. 
This, he said, was to induce further intimacy and 
to make it more permanent. 

There APs duty ended. After he had reported 
to Jim Lambert, he was to have the burro and 
the outfit, and could go where he pleased, so long 
as he kept his mouth shut and remained away 
from Goldfield. He was to be paid top packer 
wages and a share in whatever was made out of 
BilPs claims. 

Then what are you breaking your word with 
them for? was BilPs first surprising question. 

* ‘ Why aren ^t you keeping your mouth shut ? ’ ’ 

Wal, they hain’t played square with me, Mr. 
Dale. They hain^t give me the share they agreed 
to.^’ A1 lifted his dingy hat to scratch a head 
that looked as if it needed scratching. 

Haven’t you got a written agreement? ” 

“No, I hain’t. They wouldn’t have any 
writin ’ on it. They said it wouldn’t be best. ” 

“ Well, that’s good sense. It wouldn’t.” Bill 

208 


The Yarn A1 Freeman Told 

got up and put more wood in tlie stove, for a raw 
wind was blowing up from the desert, ‘‘'3[ell, 
what do you expect me to do about it! ” He 
turned on A1 so abruptly that A1 dodged, expect¬ 
ing a blow perhaps. 

Wal, I dunno — onless it might mebby be 
worth somethin’ to yuh, t’ know about the frame- 
up.” Cupidity flared for a moment in APs eyes. 
‘‘ Yo’re a rich man, Mr. Dale,” he whined, ‘‘ I 
ain’t got a dime to my name.” 

Bill replaced the lid on the stove, scraped pieces 
of bark from the surface with the poker and sat 
down again, eyeing A1 contemptuously. 

Yes, I’m a rich man — according to your 
standard. Did you ever hear of crooks making 
a man rich, Al? Doesn’t that strike you as kind 
of funny — a crook doing that! ” 

Wal, I dunno’s it does, Mr. Dale — not if they 
was gittin’ five dollars, say, whilst you was gittin’ 
one. ’ ’ 

Bill laughed contemptuously. 

If they were all that generous, they’d be 
pretty apt to pay you enough to keep your mouth 
shut, anyway. Or give some one a few dollars 
to bump you off. There are thin spots in your 
yarn, Al. I’m afraid it isn’t worth much.” 

^‘Wall, they paid me some,” Al retorted with a 
craven kind of acrimony. “ An’ they don’t 

209 


The Parowan Bonanza 

b’^eve in killing They say that^s crewd an^ 
dangerous.’’ 

They’ll pay you more,” Bill snapped, 
they’re afraid of your tongue. You’re a cheap 
skate, A1 — an awful cheap skate. If you ’ll take 
my advice, you’ll get out of town — to-night. The 
world’s full of places besides Parowan. Take him 
out. Tommy, and dump him somewhere outside 
the city limits. And if you want to bring any more 
like him into camp, give them a good scrubbing 
first. I ’ll have to clean house after him. Get! ’ ’ 
This last command was to Al, who overturned 
the box in his haste to get off it. Tommy herded 
him out with the ivory-handled gun, looking a bit 
crestfallen and a good deal puzzled. Tommy’s 
thought processes were too simple to follow Bill’s 
logic, or to understand his attitude. It seemed to 
him that Bill was almost criminally indifferent 
to his own interests, and that his leniency with Al 
Freeman fell but little short of approval. It had 
been labor wasted, bringing Al there to tell Bill 
his story, and he regretted now that he had not 
been content to kick Al out of the saloon and let 
it go at that. 

But after he was gone. Bill sat dejectedly beside 
the stove, his arms folded across his lifted knees, 
feet in the oven, and brooded over the amazing 
story. It seemed incredible that Al could be tell- 

210 


The Yarn A1 Freeman Told 

ing the truth, — and yet, there were some things 
that A1 could not possibly have imagined. If 
there were thin spots in his story, there were also 
details that carried conviction. 

Luella, having retired under the hunk during 
the interview, came stalking out and ohmhed, 
beak and claws, up BilPs back and perched upon 
his shoulder, leaning forward and making kiss¬ 
ing sounds against his cheek, which was her way 
of coaxing his attention. Bill reached up a hand 
and stroked her back absently. 

‘‘ Speak up now,’’ Luella admonished, having, 
liked the sound of that phrase. That’s a hell 
of a note, ain’t itf ” 

Bill pulled her down and held her on her back 
between his hands, rolling her gently from side 
to side. 

It is,” he answered gravely. You’ve stated 
the case exactly. ’ ’ He set the parrot on his knee, 
where she immediately began to preen her 
ruffled feathers. 

That was the convincing part of Al’s story,— 
repeating the things Luella had said before the 
courthouse. A1 claimed to have been there, and 
to have heard her talk. He had chanced to pass 
by the steps just as Jim Lambert, Bayfield and 
Emmett were coming up to the courthouse from 
town. He claimed to have been in the offices of 

211 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Jim Lambert later, when the plot was hatched. 
If that were a lie, how could A1 repeat what the 
parrot must have said? How could he knew 
that the burros, and the parrot with them, had 
waited before the courthouse steps alone or other¬ 
wise? A1 had named the very day and the very 
hour of BilPs visit to the recorder’s office. The 
date and hour were written upon his location 
filing, together with book and page of the record. 
Had Bill chanced to forget, that record would 
serve to remind him; but Bill did not forget. A1 
had never seen those papers. He could not pos¬ 
sibly have told about Luella unless he had both 
seen and heard her there. 

The incredible feature of the yarn was the fact 
that Bayfield and Emmett—John and Walter, he 
had come to call them in his mind — had been the 
chief instigators of the plot. And there again 
Bill floundered in vain speculation. What was 
the plot? Not the mere creation of jobs for them¬ 
selves, surely? A1 had professed ignorance of 
their governmental position. They may have 
been research men, as they claimed. He didn’t 
know, and he had never heard that talked about, 
except as a plausible reason for their showing up 
at Bill’s claims. He was sure that they had lied 
about working out from Las Vegas west, how¬ 
ever; having been in Goldfield, they could not 

212 


The Yarn A1 Freeman Told 

have been prospecting Forty Mile Canyon at that 
particular time. 

What had they gained? A block of stock for 
each of them, to be sure. Bill had been generous; 
had given them each fifty thousand shares of the 
promotion stock. He could scarcely credit any 
plot to get it, however. Still, that meant fifty 
thousand dollars immediately after the company 
was organized. Bill had known of many a murder 
committed for a fraction of that amount. 

One discrepancy in the story eluded him for 
some time, though he groped for it vaguely. 
Then APs retort came to him with force — Not 
if they was gittin’ five dollars where you was git- 
tin’ one ” — and set him scowling, vacant-eyed, 
at the tent wall. 

Were they getting five dollars to his one? 
How? They had full control, to be sure. But 
their control seemed to be of the conservative, 
constructive kind that favored dividends. And 
there was the thing that seemed incredible. 
Would crooks, of the bold type that would follow 
a prospector and lay cunning plans to grab what 
he had found, play a straight game afterwards? 
It did not seem to Bill that it could be possible. A 
crook is a crook. Once in control, they could 
have raided and wrecked the company a dozen 

213 


The Parowan Bonanza 

times in his absence. Instead, they bad worried 
over one passed dividend. 

Bill lay that night staring np at the whitish 
blur of his tent roof with a cloudy moon above it, 
and thought circles around the thing. Walter and 
John couldnH be the thieves A1 Freeman had 
called them. A thief cannot keep his fingers off 
other men^s money. Walter and John had made 
money for many a man. But that painfully exact 
report of seeing and hearing Luella in Goldfield 
was true. It had to be true. That was something 
which no man could build convincingly out of his 
imagination; not to Bill, where Luella was con¬ 
cerned. She had a certain fixed idea in her talk, 
always. She seemed able to discriminate be¬ 
tween subjects, and to stick to one for minutes at 
a time before drifting into other sentences that 
conveyed an entirely different impression of what 
might be going on back of those observant, yellow 
eyes. To one who did not know Luella, it would 
be impossible to simulate her uncanny imitation 
of intelligence, — which Bill more than half be¬ 
lieved to be genuine reasoning power. Perhaps 
the bird was especially quick to read faces and to 
connect certain expressions on the countenance 
with certain groups of words. It could not be ac¬ 
cident, in BilPs opinion. Accidents do not hap¬ 
pen with consistent regularity, and Luella ^s re- 

214 


The Yarn A1 Freeman Told 

marks were usually pithy and to the point. It was 
therefore a fixed basis of reasoning, in BilPs 
mind, to grant the authenticity of A1 Freeman’s 
contention that Luella was at the bottom of the 
plot. 

Beyond that point, however. Bill continued to 
flounder in doubts. He hated himself for even 
speculating upon the dishonesty of Walter and 
John, although he had found them a bit touchy, 
a shade jealous of their authority and their judg¬ 
ment. Walter had assumed executive control; 
John, as treasurer, had the responsibility of 
keeping the accounts impeccable. Bill had at¬ 
tended the annual stockholders’ meeting, on the 
last afternoon of the year, and he had been al¬ 
most awed by the meticulousness of John Em¬ 
mett’s financial report. It had sounded like some 
carefully compiled government statistics, and Bill 
had been compelled to sit and listen to a careful 
reading. 

The reelection of the Board of Directors had 
been a mere form. Bill, Walter and John were 
the directors, — Nevada demanding only three. 
They were as inevitably reelected to the same of¬ 
fices. There had not been many stockholders 
present, the day being almost a holiday. Those 
who were present voted perfunctorily and with 
complete unanimity; indeed, so harmonious had 

215 


The Parowan Bonanza 

been the meeting that every one may as well have 
stayed at home, save the secretary, Bill thought. 

Therefore, in their pardonable desire to be left 
alone to run the machinery, since they had started 
it in the first place. Bill saw the full approval of 
the resident stockholders. And if the stockhold¬ 
ers whose very business life depended upon the 
success of Parc^wan Consolidated and the in¬ 
tegrity of her officers were satisfied, surely there 
was no reason why the president should meddle. 
The business men of Parowan would be the first to 
know if anything went wrong. Bill told himself 
over and over. 

Yet the story A1 Freeman had told would not 
erase itseK from his mind, nor could he call it a 
venomous bit of spite and so discount it. There 
had been bothersome details which a lawyer 
would call corroborative evidence. There was the 
ineffectual campsetting, the night of their arrival; 
rather, the late afternoon. Tommy had declared 
then that A1 Freeman had been bluffing, that he 
had not tried to get their tent up and pegged 
down securely before the storm broke. A1 con¬ 
firmed Tommy ^s assertion. The plan, he de¬ 
clared, had been to manage to pass the night with 
Bill. They had decided that when they first 
glimpsed his tent. 

Then the invasion of the tent while Doris was 

216 


The Yarn A1 Freeman Told 

there alone he had explained. Enunett had seen 
the sample sack half full of ore, but had not dared 
to investigate the contents at the time. He had 
ordered A1 to go back and see what was in that 
sack. It it were the rich ore they suspected, he 
was to abstract what he could, load the burros and 
hurry back to Goldfield, leaving Hayfield and 
Emmett nothing but their blankets. He said they 
knew that Bill had plenty of grub. 

These details fitted in with what had occurred 
within BilPs knowledge. If A1 were lying, he was 
assuredly making a fine, artistic job of it all. The 
inconceivable part was the personality of the two 
men he accused, and the part they had played and 
were still playing in Parowan Consolidated and in 
the town. They had promoted their campaign 
cleverly and efficiently, mostly by the power of 
suggestion. 

If it^s true,’^ said Bill harassedly at break¬ 
fast next morning, they^re the tamest bandits 
I ever saw in my life. I can T believe it. ’ ’ 

‘‘ Seems like a dream,’’ Luella assented 
promptly, pausing in her nibbling of coffee- 
soaked crust. Ain’t that a hell of a note! I 
can’t believe it.” Then, blinking rapidly as 
memory revived another speech, she added softly. 
Kiss me, Doris. Say you love me.” 

Bill’s face paled. He looked at the bird, swept 

217 


The Parowan Bonanza 

out an impulsive arm and pushed her off the table, 
soaked crust and all. He bit his lip, fighting the 
spasm of loneliness, or heartsick longing for the 
life he had dreamed of living with Doris. 

Of a sudden his head went down upon a curved 
arm, his shoulders twitching a bit as he still 
fought. Luella, crawling up to forgive and be 
forgiven, made her clicking, kissing sounds in 
vain against his cheek. 

‘ ‘ Hell of a note! ^ ’ she complained at last, when, 
Bill gave no sign of response. I can’t believe it. 
Seems like a dream. You don’t say!” Then, 
spying the butter unguarded, she stepped down 
upon the table and pigeon-toed in that direction. 

Help yourself,” she invited gravely. Plenty 
more where that came from. Help yourself.” 

And Bill, his soul flayed with bitter memories, 
with dreams slowly strangled and returning 
wraithlike to mock his loneliness, did not even 
hear. 


218 


CHAPTER NINETEEN 
there’ll be more to come of it ” 

Walter Rayfield reached out his hand with de¬ 
liberate firmness and laid his forefinger upon the 
push button on his desk. In the distance could 
be heard a faint buzzing. Almost immediately 
thereafter, John Emmett opened a door and 
walked in, a yellow invoice in his hand and a look 
of inquiry on his face. 

Rayfield waved a plump hand toward a chair. 

Sit down, John, and listen to the story that 
Bill has brought us this morning. The most out¬ 
rageous thing I ever heard in my life. Go on. 
Bill — but go back to the beginning, if you don’t 
mind. I want John to hear what you have just 
told me.” 

Impassively Bill obeyed. When he had finished 
— and he spared no details in the recital — he sat 
back and folded his arms, waiting to see how they 
would take it; watching, too, for some sign that 
should guide his judgment of the matter. He was 
still ashamed to doubt them, still ready to believe 
that Al, having overheard the parrot, and sus- 

219 


The Parowan Bonanza 

pecting the significance of her remarks, had yet 
concocted the rest of the story from some dark 
purpose of his own; revenge, perhaps, but more 
likely in the hope of profiting by the tale. But 
Bill had not spoken of his own belief in the two. 
He had told them what A1 said, making no com¬ 
ment of any kind, keeping his voice and his face 
carefully neutral. 

Bayfield and Emmett looked at each other. Em¬ 
mett smiled slightly, shrugged his shoulders and 
glanced down at the yellow invoice. 

Interesting bit of libel,’’ he said contemptu¬ 
ously. If there was any truth in it, I wouldn’t 
be getting a hump in my shoulders and ruining 
my eyes over the Company books. Did you 0 K 
the order for these engine parts, Walter! This 
invoice is not correct. The total is wrong, and 
moreover the name of purchaser is not here. I 
wish you’d call up the shop and ask about it. Tell 
them I can’t accept it as it stands. Make it plain 
that they must furnish a correct invoice, or take 
back the merchandise.” He dropped the invoice 
before Bayfield. And once more let me say that 
I absolutely refuse to accept anything that is not 
signed by the purchaser. Who did this buying! 
The engineer at the plant! ” 

Now, now, never mind the invoice for a min¬ 
ute, John! I want to ask Bill just one question. 

220 


“ There’ll Be More to Come of It ” 


It may not be beneath your dignity, either, to join 
me in wanting to know why Bill did not bring this 
A1 Freeman to us with that story. That hurts me, 
Bill. I canT understand why you heard him out 
and did not give us the chance to face him with it. 
I — I dislike to think that you gave the story any 

credence; but since-’ ’ 

Emmett turned and came back to the desk. His 
hard brown eyes fixed themselves upon BilFs face. 

If Bill took enough stock in the yam to listen 
to it, there’s just one thing for me to do. I’m 
responsible for the Company’s funds. I think 
I shall demand that you bring an auditor to ex¬ 
amine the books.” 

An auditor has gone over the books, hasn’t 
he? You showed his certificate at the annual 
meeting. And A1 didn’t say you had juggled the 
accounts, John.” 

‘‘No, he could hardly say that,” Bayfield put 
in. ‘ ‘ At this late day — hoping, I suppose, that 
we could not prosecute him for stealing our oufit 
— he claims that we arranged for him to steal it 
so that we could board with Bill! ” He threw 
back his head suddenly and laughed, his sides and 
rounded front shaking with mirth. 

“ A fine tribute to your cooking. Bill! You 
should have given him a dollar or two for that! ’ ’ 
“ I thought you two ought to know what he’s 

221 



The Parowan Bonanza 

saying/’ Bill replied soberly. He had no heart 
for joking, that morning. He was telling it in 
Tommy’s Place, and Tommy overheard him and 
made him come to me and repeat what he had said 
to others. I thought it was no more than right 
to let you know.” 

We appreciate your spirit. Bill, but I can’t 
seem to understand his object. Hid he give you 
any valid reason for concocting such a yarn! ” 

He said that you hadn’t played fair with him. 
He said you had paid him some money, but not 
what you had promised. ’ ’ Bill sighed, — a purely 
physical incident caused by his general depres¬ 
sion and the ache in his heart for Doris. This 
conspiracy tale did not seem important, now that 
he had told it to Walter and John. The sunny, 
well-regulated offices, the sight of John and Wal¬ 
ter on the job, busy with Parowan affairs, re¬ 
assured and shamed him — though he reflected 
that he had not really doubted them, even in his 
midnight musings when a man’s faith bums 
weakest. 

I told him you’d have paid enough to keep his 
mouth shut,” he added. And I wouldn’t make 
enough of the yam to bring him to you. I told 
Tommy to take him out and dump him outside the 
city limits.” 

In that case,” said John in a tone of dis- 

222 


“ There’ll Be More to Come of It ” 


pleasure, I don^t see just what you can expect 
us to do about it; or why you came to us with it 
during office hours. Walter may have all the time 
in the world to gossip — but I happen to have 
work to do. When you decide what you^re going 
to do about it, let me know and I hi stand any 
investigation you may want to start. But I can^t 
stand here discussing a crazy yam like that un¬ 
less it’s of some importance to the Company.” 

Bill rose and picked up his hat. 

I came and told you the yarn so you’ll know 
what to do if A1 Freeman shows up again in Paro- 
wan. I won’t be here for a week or two, maybe. 
I’m taking the noon train. You can get me at 
the Palace Hotel in Frisco, any time it’s nec¬ 
essary.” 

Going to bring the Missus back with you? 
Bayfield pursed his lips good-humoredly. Hope 
you mean to give a house-warming when you move 
into that mansion. I’d like to have some of these 
Parowan folks see what you’ve got there. Well, 
so-long, old man. And after all, I guess we’re 
both grateful to you for warning us about A1 
Freeman. I’ll put the Chief of Police on his trail. 
If he shows up we’ll land him in the penitentiary 
for that robbery of our camp outfit. A man like 
that’s dangerous, left running at large and slan¬ 
dering his betters.” 


223 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Bill agreed with him and went down the stairs 
wondering just how much of a fool he had made 
of himself. But that thought was presently swal¬ 
lowed up in his anticipation of seeing Doris and 
little Baby Mary within twenty-four hours. He 
had not intended to leave so soon. He had meant 
to write Doris that the house was finished and 
furnished, and to invite her, in a purely joking 
way, to invite her to come and inspect his job. 
But up in the office he had suddenly sickened of 
the town, and of Walter and John. He had a 
fierce desire to look into one pair of eyes that he 
knew was loyal. Doris might not agree with him 
always, she might fall short of his ideal as a wife, 
but at least their interests were identical and she 
could never be guilty of treachery. He was not 
so sure of the rest of the world. 

He hurried to camp and got Luella, taking her 
to Tommy’s Place. He wanted Tommy to sleep 
up in the new house for safety’s sake, and he 
wanted to know what had become of Al. 

He found Tommy in a rather difficult mood and 
did not stay to explain his reasons for turning Al 
out with so httle thought of his importance. It 
seemed to Tommy that Bill was playing into the 
hands of crooks, and as plainly as he dared 
Tommy told Bill so. 

‘ ‘ Al’s gone, Mr. Dale — but there ’ll be more to 

224 


There’ll Be More to Come of It ” 


come of he said carpingly. Rape wan eye 
open, is my advice to ynh. For I tell yuh plain 
that A1 was not lyin', though ynh might think it. 
He c'uldn't look ynh in the eye, Mr. Dale — an' 
when he's tellin' one of his lies he has that way 
of lookin' at ynh, he puts the school books t' shame 
that says a bar cannot look a man in the eye. 
So I know-" 

Train's whistling. Tommy. Keep yonr own 
eyes open and look after the new house." It dis¬ 
turbed Bill to have Tommy voice something which 
Bill himself would not concede to his conscious¬ 
ness. He did not believe Al's story, because he 
refused to doubt the integrity of his partners. He 
refused to doubt them, because to do so would pull 
down his faith in the stability of Parowan, which 
he had chosen for Mary's home. It was a round¬ 
about way to fight a doubt, but it was the best 
Bill could do at that time. For, as is well known, 
nothing ever thrives quite so luxuriantly as the 
seeds of suspicion. 

Doris was glad to see Bill, though she was not 
enthusiastic over the invitation to Parowan. She 
had thought that they might take a trip east, now 
that the baby was old enough to travel, and had 
cut her first two teeth. Of course, Doris would 

like to see her mother and dad, but Parowan- 

225 






The Parowan Bonanza 

‘‘ Well, you’ve got a hundred-thousand-dollar 
house to step into, honey, if you want to go. ’ ’ Bill 
looked at her wistfully. I’ve heard several 
women wishing they could visit a real mining 
camp, and I thought maybe you’d like to take a 
party over for a week or two, and give a sort of 
house-warming. Mrs. Baker Cole helped me 
choose the furnishings, and she thought the plan 
of the house was perfect. You won’t be ashamed 
to have vour friends see it. And there are some 

4 / 

nice folks in Parowan now.” 

Boris considered the matter. If Sophy Cole 
had helped Bill, of course, that was different. 
The nice folks in Parowan, of course, did not 
appeal to her in the slightest degree; but the 
house-party idea was not a bad one. And she did 
want to see the old home again, she discovered. 

‘‘ We’d have to take servants from here, Bill 
— and you know I positively couldn’t think of 
staying longer than a couple of weeks or so. And 
I’d have to see the place first, before I could ask 
any one over. You’re a dear, and all that, but a 
man simply canH know about the little things that 
count when one is giving a party. And besides, 
I’d have to arrange for amusements for the 
guests. There is so httle that one can do in the 
desert for entertainment.” 

‘‘I’d like to have you go with me alone,” Bill 

226 


‘‘ Therell Be More to Come of It 


confessed. I’d like to have you all to myself 
for a little while in the new home. Has it ever 
struck you, Doris, that we have hved before the 
public ever since we were married? ” 

I don’t see how you can call this public,” 
Doris retorted, glancing around the room. ‘ ‘ And 
until you went back to Nevada on this wild scheme 
of yours, I’m sure we were together all the time 
— and by ourselves too, an awful lot.” 

Bill extended an arm and tapped lightly against 
the wall. Six or eight inches between us and 
our neighbors. I call that living in public. Well, 
shall we go over there together, just us two and 
the baby? ” 

I’ll see,” said Doris lightly. ‘‘Perhaps — 
with servants, of course. I’m rather curious to 
see what kind of a house you and Sophy Cole 
would build, anyway. ’ ’ 

“ Next week, then, let’s go.” Bill drew her 
toward him and kissed her. “ It would be to¬ 
morrow, but I’ve got something to look after, first. 
Honey, don’t think me a fool just because I love 
you so; and don’t laugh at me for wanting to see 
my wife and my baby under our own roof. I can’t 
help it. I’m human.’’ 

“ You’re extravagant,” Doris corrected, pat¬ 
ting him on the shoulder with a slight condescen¬ 
sion which Bill did not miss. “ Think of spending 

227 


The Parowan Bonanza 

all that money on a house in the desert! I never 
heard of such a thing. I’ll bet folks over there 
are calling it Dale’s Folly, this minute.” 

Bill’s eyebrows drew together. He looked down 
at her somberly. 

They’re sure mistaken, then,” he said grimly. 

That^s not Dale’s folly.” 

You don’t mean me, I hope? ” A sparkle 
came into her eyes. 

But Bill took his hat and left the room without 
even remembering that he should ask to be ex¬ 
cused, or make some courteous explanation of his 
sudden departure. 


228 


CHAPTER TWENTY 


LUELLA ENTERTAINS 

Bill stood on the south veranda and looked 
down upon the town, where smoke was rising 
lazily from bent stovepipe and brick chimney — 
the supper fires of ParowaiPs inhabitants — and 
away across the desert beyond, where the Funeral 
Mountains stood shoulder deep in purple shadows, 
the peaks smiling yet in rosetinted afterglow. 

‘‘ Home! he said between his teeth. I made 
a mistake. I Ve only built a house. I ^m a damned 
fool. It takes two to make a home.’’ 

Behind him came faint murmurs of talk, high- 
keyed laughter, little silences shattered suddenly 
by the refined babel of several women exclaiming 
in unison. The clink of china punctuating the 
pauses. Then, frank, uncompromising, came the 
voice of Luella, speaking with awful distinctness. 

‘‘What the hell! Damned bunch of gossips. 
Won’t you ever settle down? Doris, for God sake 
listen.” 

A pause, then voices exclaiming once more. 
Slippered feet came tack-tack across polished 

229 


The Parowan Bonanza 

floors, muffled on the rugs, clicking when the rug 
was passed. A ripple, rustle, quite close. Then 
silence. Without turning his head Bill knew that 
Doris was standing in the open doorway, looking 
at him in hot anger. Unconsciously he braced 
himself, his face setting into forced serenity. 

It came. 

Bill, I wish to heaven you^d come and get 
that parrot! She ^s in there, walking up and down, 
looking at the floor and saying the most awful 
things! Youfll have to explain it somehow to my 
guests — her calling them a bunch of damned gos¬ 
sips. It’s beyond human endurance. She’s talk¬ 
ing something awful. I’ll call a servant to take 
her out and wring her neck, if you don’t come and 
get her. I mean that. Bill. ’ ’ 

Bill clicked his teeth together and faced her, 
smiling. But in the pockets of his Palm Beach 
coat his hands were clenched, so that trimmed 
nails dug into flesh. 

Your guests wanted to see Luella and hear 
her talk,” he reminded her with gentle raillery. 

You told them how she would go up to baby 
Mary and smooth down the baby’s dress with her 
beak, and make kissing sounds, and say, “ She 
looks like you. Bill. Damned if she don’t.” I 
heard you telling them. She’s heard Don say 

230 


Luella Entertains 

that, every time he comes here. Your guests 

begged to have her brought in-’’ 

Yes, and what did she do? '' Doris was al¬ 
most in tears; but ladies with carefully powdered 
cheeks cannot afford tears, so Doris pressed a 
twenty-tive-dollar handkerchief to her lips and 
controlled herself. Idl tell you what she did! 
I brought the baby and held her down for the 
parrot to talk to. And what did she say? ^ What 
the hell! You damned huzzy, git outa here! ’ 
ThaVs what she said, to your own baby! Now 
those women will go home and say that^s the way 
you talk to your family. ’ ’ 

Bill’s chuckle did not soothe her appreciably. 
She stood looking at him as if she wanted to box 
his ears. Bill in cream colored Palm Beach coat 
and trousers, soft silk shirt, white canvas shoes, 
was the handsomest man Parowan, — or in all 
Esmeralda County, for that matter. The women 
guests of Doris recognized that fact, if Doris her¬ 
self overlooked it. Wherefore, when he yielded 
the point and returned to the midst of the assem¬ 
bly, he saw eyes that brightened as he looked into 
them, lips that smiled, a subdued little flutter at 
his coming. 

In the wide arch that Bill had designed to give 
Doris the long vista ” which she so admired in 
other houses, Luella was pigeon-toeing back and 

231 



The Parowan Bonanza 

forth, her tail spread slightly, her eyes swift¬ 
flashing bits of amber. She was peeved at some¬ 
thing, in Bill’s opinion. She paused and tilted 
her head at him. 

‘‘ Look who’s here! Well, I’ll be damned! ” 
Ladies laughed titteringly behind their fingers, 
and looked at one another. Bill, feeling himself 
an elephant at a doll’s tea-party, stooped and let 
Luella step upon his hand. 

‘‘ Hell of a note! I just can’t stand this place! 

Not a soul worth knowing. Ignorant-” 

Bill mercifully squelched her with his hand 
pressing down her head hard. He bit his lip, try¬ 
ing hard not to laugh right out in meeting, and 
turned to make a dignified retreat of it, when a 
pair of human-looking eyes in the crowd met his, 
and one lid drooped a bit. 

Bill stopped short, took the second look to make 
sure, and turned toward the wives and daughters 
of Parowan’s leading citizens. He grinned, — the 
old. Bill Dale smile in the face of discouragement, 
the smile and the twinkle that had gone far to win 
him his nickname of Hopeful Bill. 

Aw, shucks! You’ve all raised children that 
were brought out to act pretty before company, 
I guess. ’ ’ His voice wheedled them: ‘ ‘ They gen¬ 
erally wound up with a spanking after the com¬ 
pany was gone, didn’t they? Well, we’re in that 

232 



Luella Entertains 

fix right now. Luella’s been and gone and done 
it, just like any other kid. That^s what I get for 
leaving her with a — gentleman that keeps a 
saloon, while we were in Cahfomia for about a 
year. And — you’ve caught me with the goods, 
I guess. I do cuss, now and then. Every time 
the baby tries to say something else, I’m apt to 
holler, ‘ Doris, for so-and-so listen! ’ Luella’s got 
it down pat.” He looked around at them with 
his Hopeful Bill smile. I hope I shut her off 
before she told that on me,” he said. 

They laughed, much relieved, glad of his ex¬ 
ample so that they dared be human for a minute. 
Doris, with her perfect social manner, had kept 
them stiff-backed and guarding their tongues. 
One old lady who had been the wife of a governor 
and could afford to be herself on that account, 
waved half a wafer at Bill imperiously. 

Don’t take her away, whatever you do,” she 
cried. ‘‘ That would be a confession of guilt. I 
wouldn’t have a parrot that couldn’t swear — or 
a monkey that wouldn’t steal the guests’ earrings. 
Put her down and let her cuss. It’s about the 
only chance we’ll ever get to hear how men talk 
when we ’re not around. ’ ’ 

Bill hesitated, until he caught the eye of Doris, 
over by the door. Then he shook his head. 

My wife’s trying to reform me before the 

233 


The Parowan Bonanza 

baby^s old enough to repeat things,’’ he said. 

Luella’s influence is considered bad enough as 
it is. It would never do to encourage her. The 
custom is to shut her in a dark closet whenever 
she speaks in an unrefined manner. We hope to 
purify her speech before little Mary is old enough 
to copy it. ” 

He gave them all an endearing smile and car¬ 
ried Luella off. The awkwardness of the situation 
was considerably relieved, and Doris did her care¬ 
ful best to efface the memory of those last in¬ 
terrupted remarks of Luella’s. She hoped that 
no one had noticed how the parrot’s voice had 
changed, imitating her own tones. Luella never 
learned that in the saloon, at least; there was 
enough to set the ladies of Parowan thinking. 

The ladies of Parowan did think — and they 
talked, as well. They had felt all along, they said, 
that Bill Dale’s wife held herself above the rest 
of the town; though why she should was beyond 
their powers of imagination. Everybody knew 
she was Don Hunter’s girl, — respectable enough, 
but nobody in particular,‘and certainly not rich. 
Don had made some money out of Parowan, but 
they still ate in the kitchen, and Mrs. Hunter 
didn’t even keep a hired girl. And here was 
Doris, trailing silken gowns over the polished 
floors, the Persian rugs of the mansion on the hill, 

234 


Luella Entertains 

•and speaking loftily of this servant and that serv- 
ant — by their last names — and bewailing the 
hardships of living in Parowan and trying to en¬ 
tertain with no caterer in town and cut flowers 
a practical impossibility on short notice or if the 
trains happened to be late. 

The ladies of Parowan descended to the satisfy¬ 
ing luxury of speaking their minds. Some of the 
minds harbored spite and malice and envy, at that, 
and the things they said were not pleasant. It 
was fortunate that the series of ‘‘at homes ’’ 
which Doris had condescended to give to the ladies 
in Parowan ended with what Bill unfeelingly 
dubbed “ Luella’s party. 

Five afternoons had been devoted to that mem¬ 
orable series. Twenty-five women to an after¬ 
noon, and the house decorated ditferently each 
day, and the prizes for the card games real, costly 
trifles such as Mrs. Baker Cole and her set always 
gave. Parowan society would have been content 
with a china plate or a doily for first prize, even 
at the bridge table, — which was new to Parowan. 
Plain whist and five hundred were the games usu¬ 
ally played by the ladies of Parowan, and Doris 
had overawed them, intimidated them even, with 
her “ bridge tables ever since her arrival. 

Her house-party from Santa Barbara and San 
Francisco, arriving in a private car, twittering 

235 


The Parowan Bonanza 

through the “ camp for a week and departing 
as they had come, had impressed even the ex¬ 
governor ^s wife. There had been a grand, house¬ 
warming ball, and the very elect of Parowan had 
been permitted to attend it; but the house-party 
of wealthy strangers had held themselves a bit 
aloof, and one woman had been overheard to ex¬ 
press her surprise and disappointment because 
the natives had neglected to appear in red shirts 
and high boots, with six-shooters dangling at their 
hips. Parowan hadn’t quite forgiven that, even 
yet. 

But Doris had responded to the involuntary 
deference which Parowan showed to the wife of 
Bill Dale. She had glowed secretly with pride 
in the house Bill had built on the hillside. It was 
a beautiful house; even her critical eye could find 
no flaw in its design, in its perfect appointments. 
Bill had been building a dream into the house. 
Love had gone into it, and a wistful longing for 
a home that should dumbly express his love for 
Doris and for his child. Hope had gone into the 
building of that house; the hope that Doris would 
love it and would want to call it home. 

He had visioned her standing at the great win¬ 
dow that was set like the frame of a picture into 
the west end of the long drawing-room. The 
scene it framed each day was the sunset, — glo- 

236 


Luella Entertains 

rious sunsets such as only the desert may know. 
A great window of flawless plate glass, framing 
the far peaks that flamed each night anew. 

In the eastern wall the mate to that window 
was set cunningly so that it should frame a glory 
which Bill called dawn. Doris had never seen 
that picture, though Bill seldom missed it. But 
he had dreamed of her standing before the west 
window, looking upon the sunset. He had 
dreamed of other pictures of Doris in that house. 
Once or twice his heart had heat faster, beheving 
that his dream was coming true. For Doris had 
been stimulated by the praise of her guests of 
the house-party. She had read in their faces a 
delight in this house set upon the edge of the 
wilderness. A few had asked if they might come 
back. So Doris was lingering in Parowan and 
playing great lady to the town, — and dramatiz¬ 
ing herself to herself, with her California ac¬ 
quaintances for an imaginary audience. She had 
seen that they expected her to love the desert. 
Wherefore, she was professing to love the desert 
and the town, and to dread tearing herself away 
at the first frost. She meant to have her friends 
over again, she declared. She had thought of a 
perfectly original bit of fun for them. She would 
dress them all in miners^ clothes and lead them 
right down into the mine, and let each one dig 



The Parowan Bonanza 

some gold for a souvenir. She wrote of this to 
Mrs. Baker Cole, who told her it was a wonderful 
idea. 

And now, here were the Parowan women gos¬ 
siping about that wretched parrot. Doris did 
not need to hear what they were saying, in order 
to be sure that they were talking. She felt a dif¬ 
ference in their attitude; thinly veiled resentment, 
— and some sentiments which were not veiled at 
all. She would have left Parowan then, spurning 
it contemptuously as an impossible place to live 
in, but for one thing. 

Doris Hunter, bom in the desert, knew desert 
ways and desert people. Though she would not 
admit it, she knew what would have been her own 
attitude, three or four years ago, toward a woman 
of wealth who lived in a mansion and patronized 
her friends. She knew that she would have re¬ 
sented the woman intensely, would have hated 
everything the woman said or did. And if the 
woman bungled her patronage and then left the 
place, Doris would have curled her lip and would 
have said that the woman left because she dis¬ 
covered that even in the desert people had their 
own. ideas and refused to run after snobs. 

Knowing all that, Doris stayed, holding her 
head up proudly, as was her privilege. She had 
her house-party, and could be seen merrymaking 

238 


Luella Entertains 

on the broad porches, with colored lights and 
music and dancing, on cool nights after the days 
had been hot. Parowan was not invited to those 
frolics, hut must view the colored lights and listen 
to the music from a distance. 

She returned with the party to Los Angeles 
and the beaches there, and was gone for a month 
or more. But she returned, quite unexpectedly 
to Bill and to the town, and made some pretense 
at being glad to be at home. 

And all the while gossip was flowing, a turgid 
underground stream fed by some unknown source. 
All the while it was taking to itself a bitter flavor 
which had not been there when it had been merely 
a thin trickle of feminine resentment. Men were 
talking, — in confidential undertones at first, later 
with an uneasy hope that certain rumors would 
be proven false; rumors that held an ugly mean¬ 
ing for the town. 

And Bill, keeping pretty much to himself when 
Doris was not at home, and devoting himself to 
her whims and her service when she was with 
him, leaving suddenly for short trips and return- 
ing more imperturbable than he had been before, 
never heard the gossip, or dreamed of what would 
happen when the whisperings grew into shouts. 


239 


CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 


BILL AND THE TAME BANDITS 

Bill stood on the top step of the front porch, 
looking down into the scowling faces of a com¬ 
mittee of workmen from the mine. Seamed, not 
too clean some of them, hard-eyed every one, they 
stood looking up at him, measuring as they were 
being measured. He had seen them coming up the 
hill, had thought some accident had happened, had 
come to meet them. There he stopped short, on 
guard. He had seen miners^ committees before 
now. They needed no banner to announce their 
kind and purpose. 

Come in, boys,’^ he said, when the silence be¬ 
came marked. You seem to have something on 
your chests.” 

He turned to the door, and they followed him, 
saying nothing. That in itself was of unfriendly 
portent. Many of these men he knew by sight, 
a few had speaking acquaintance with him. He 
had returned the evening before from the Coast, 
and he felt a swift desire for a full record of the 
day since he had left Parowan. Something must 

240 


Bill and the Tame Bandits 

have happened, some grievance of which he was 
wholly in ignorance must have arisen in his 
absence. 

Bill saw how they stared around at the beau¬ 
tiful room, and looked at one another afterwards 
with a grim significance. He stiffened mentally. 

All right, now, let’s have it — since you are 
here. But the office is the proper place for busi¬ 
ness, you know. Why didn’t you go there? ” 

It’s you we want to see this morning, Mr. 
Dale,” a small, shrewd-faced man said quietly. 

Mr. Bayfield and Mr. Emmett have done all 
they can for us. We’ll have to talk straight from 
the shoulder, now, so we came to the man who’s 
responsible.” 

‘ ‘ All right. ’ ’ Bill sat down and crossed one leg 
over the other, — a habit of which Doris did not 
approve. Eesponsible for what? ” 

‘‘ For getting away with the money, so our 
wages haven’t been paid this month. And so the 
company can’t go ahead and find the ore again. 
The boss has done his best. He’s proved that. 
When the Company failed to meet the payroll, 
Mr. Bayfield and Mr. Emmett lent a lot of the 
boys money out of their ov/n pockets to tide things 

over. And we had just stood a cut in wages-’ ’ 

If you’ll excuse me just a minute,” said Bill 
in his best city manner, I’ll call the office.” 

241 



The Parowan Bonanza 

They seemed to suspect some trick, even in that. 
But the small man did nothing to prevent Bill 
from leaving the room, so no one else did any¬ 
thing. But Bill had only reached the door when 
he swung back. 

Wedl go down to the office together,’^ he said 
quietly. You fellows aren’t here just to pass 
the time away, I take it. And I just got back 
last night. I don’t know what’s happened while 
I was away, so we’ll just go down where I can 
find out the truth of the matter.” 

They were a taciturn lot. They said nothing 
whatever to that, but rose and followed him out, 
skidding a little on the polished floor. Bill was 
thankful for their silence. He wanted to think, 
and he needed to think swiftly. 

For two months, a new rule at the mine had 
shut him out almost entirely from the works. 
Bayfield had explained that it was because some 
one had tampered with the safety of the men, — 
had in fact set fire to a section of timbering. The 
effect was that no man was permitted on the works 
without a special, written permit from the gen¬ 
eral manager. 

Bill had run into that restriction unawares. 
The superintendent had been sorry, but firm. 
Bayfield, he said, would not excuse any violation 
of the rule. Bill must go to him for a permit. 

242 


Bill and the Tame Bandits 

Bill had gone and had received the permit, which 
was good only for one visit. Eaytield could not 
risk the misuses of a pass, he said. He had too 
much on his shoulders. 

Bill had taken the permit and had torn it in 
two before Walter’s eyes. And who writes the 
permit for you? ’’ he had asked contemptuously 
and had stalked out. Bayfield had attempted to 
make light of the affront, but he had not recalled 
the order. 

Bill would not run to him for permission when 
he wanted to go into his own mine, so he had kept 
away from the works, and as far as possible he 
had kept away from the office as well. Who was 
he to butt in? he had asked himself resentfully. 
He was only the president of the Company. And, 
having matters of his own to occupy his mind and 
his time, he had not concerned himself further 
with the management of the mine. 

Two or three men whom he met on the street 
looked at them strangely, but the group continued 
to the office without being‘questioned by any,— 
though Bill fancied that he could read anxiety in 
more than one pair of eyes that met him on the 
street. The silence of the mine machinery was 
noticeable and depressing. Bill was bracing him¬ 
self for the worst. 

The worst met him in the office of Parowan 

243 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Consolidated, and it met him with a soothing pat 
on the shoulder — which did not soothe — and a 
deprecatory shake of Walter E/ayfield^s head. 
Emmett was in the room, also, standing by the 
window with his hands in his pockets as if he 
were out of a job. Which he was, as a matter 
of fact. 

I was going to send for you, Bill,^^ said Wal¬ 
ter. I wasn’t sure you came home last night, 
however. ’ ’ 

Bill passed the civilities by as of no moment. 

What’s all this about the mine being on the 
rocks ? ’ ’ He did not mince matters. He was past 
that. 

Walter looked at him reproachfully with his 
good eye and pursed his lips. 

You saw it coming,” he said mildly. ‘H kept 
preaching retrenchment, you know, when our ore 
began to pinch ©ut. Hopeful Bill wouldn’t lis¬ 
ten.” He glanced swiftly at the committee of six. 

So the result that I warned you of has come 
to pass. We have no ore, no money, and some 
debts. The boys haven’t had their wages this pay¬ 
day, Bill.” His tone was maddeningly reproach¬ 
ful. It implied that Bill was to blame for all this. 
Bill accepted the challenge. 

How do you blame me for that? ” Again he 
was clenching his hands in his pockets, holding 

244 


Bill and the Tame Bandits 


his temper rigidly under control. He wanted to 
get to the bottom of this amazing state of affairs. 
He had to get to the bottom of it. 

‘‘ Wel-l-Walter fiddled with a pencil on 

the desk, -of course we know it costs money 

to build fine houses, and dividends must be paid 
promptly to meet the needs of — the occasion. 
But one can’t go on paying dividends unless there 
is some income to warrant it. I admit that I erred 
in my judgment in one respect. I was in hopes 
that the ore would hold out longer than it did. We 
might have carried things along until the first of 
the year, at least. Then, John and I intended to 
resign and let you take the load on your own 
shoulders. We have done the best we could 

but-” he shook his head regretfully -we 

couldn’t keep the dollars rolling in quite fast 
enough. Not — quite. ’ ’ 

Bill stared at him stupidly. He looked at John 
Emmett, who had turned and was facing them, 
his hard eyes fixed on Bill. 

I should like,” said Bill, to bring in an audi¬ 
tor to go over the books. How you’ve worked it 
I don’t pretend to know — but I see you’ve done 
it. I don’t suppose the books will show it either. 
I reckon you’ve been too cute for that — since 
you’ve been working out a plan from the start. 
But we’ll go through the motions of getting at the 

245 






The Parowan Bonanza 

bottom of this. And before we go any farther, 
Idl admit that I know almost exactly how much 
of a damned fool I Ve been. But you h’e slick, you 
two. It took me so long to figure you out that 
you got away with it before I was in a position 
to stop you. There ^s nothing, ’ ^ he sneered, ‘ ‘ like 
the friendship game to skin a man with. It beats 
a knife in the dark, any time. John, let^s see the 
cash balance — if there is any; or did you two dig 
out the corners? ’’ 

Eayfield sighed and shrugged his shoulders. 
Emmett’lifted his lip at Bill like a wolf and did 
not move. 

No use trying to put up any blutf,’’ he 
snarled. You^re the president of this Company 
— you sign all the checks, donT you? If you 
donT know where the Company stands, who 
would? ’’ 

The small, shrewd-faced man interrupted, 
standing a bit forward from the group. 

All this is interesting,’^ he said, ‘‘ but it don’t 
get us fellows anywhere. We came to find out 
about the payroll. We’ve been stood off now for 
ten days. We want to know where we stand.” 

Bill turned his head and studied the men briefly, 
the small man longest. 

You stand in line, along with the rest of the 
bunch, ’ ’ he said, with a heartening grin. ‘ ^ Go back 

246 


Bill and the Tame Bandits 

and tell the men to mosey down here to the oiBfice. 
They’ll get their pay, all right.” 

They looked at him, and from him their eyes 
went to the other two. The small man turned tci 
the door. 

They’ll be here, Mr. Dale,” he said. Bill 
never could decide afterwards just what lay be¬ 
hind the httle man’s words. They had sounded 
somewhat like a threat. 

“ Get out the payroll, John,” he said crisply. 

And the nice, big check book I’ve kept signed 
up for you. The men will he here, and they’ll have 
to be paid. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ There’s not enough money in the bank to pay 
them. ’ ’ Emmett’s voice was surly. 

Get the books, I said. The men are going to 
be paid.” 

Perhaps Emmett thought it would not be worth 
while to oppose him. Perhaps he knew the tem¬ 
per the men would be in. He brought the books, 
slapping them down on Eayfield’s desk ill- 
naturedly. 

They’ve waited ten days,” said Bill, ‘‘You 
begin figuring their time up to and including 
to-day. ’ ’ 

Eayfield ceased for a moment to drum his fin¬ 
gers. “ They’ve been out for two days. Bill,” he 
said. ‘ ‘ Quit of their own accord. ’ ’ 

247 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Up to and including to-day/^ Bill repeated 
distinctly. He picked up the telephone and called 
the hank, asked for the Company's balance and 
got it. The modesty of that balance astonished 
him, even now. 

Send up a messenger for a deposit,’^ he said 
easily and put down the ’phone. Now, what’s 
the payroll? ” 

Including our salaries, which have not been 

paid for the last three months-” 

Bill reached out a long arm and got him by 
the front, pulling him close. ‘‘I’d love to smash 
every bone in your body, you tame bandit,” he 
gritted. “ But we won’t add any rough stuff to 
this — yet. I want to find out, first, just how 
rough to make it. ’ ’ 

He let John go with a savage push that slammed 
him against the wall. “T want you two crooks 
to know just where I stand, ”%e said between his 
teeth. “ You’ve raided and wrecked my Com¬ 
pany, deliberately, and as completely as you could. 
You’ve squeezed the lemon dry, and you’ve been 
peddling lies about me and mine, to cover up your 
dirty work. I don’t need to be knocked down with 
a club, once my eyes are open. You’ve asked me 
to accept paper for my dividends, all summer, so 
there would be a decent cut for the rest. I did 
it, — and don’t you reckon I can’t prove it? 

248 



Bill and the Tame Bandits 

Now, you’re going to come clean. It won’t 
get you anything but whole hones, because I mean 
to send you to the pen for this, if I can prove it 
on you. I fight for my own. And now, how much 
will it take to cover the payroll? The messenger’s 
outside.” 

Emmett growled the amount, and Bill wrote 
a check, asked for the bank book and got it just 
as the messenger rapped on the door. 

‘‘Wait a minute, sonny,” he called, when the 
boy was leaving. “ I want you to do an errand 
for me, if you will. ’ ’ 

“Yes, sir, Mr. Dale.” Boys must worship he¬ 
roes, and Bill was the man this youngster had 
chosen for his own. One read it in his eyes, in 
his voice, in his glowing eagerness to serve. 

Bill scribbled a short note to Tommy, and held 
it out with a dollar. The boy shook his head at 
the money, took the note and bowed himself out 
with a quaint courtesy that would have amused 
Bill at any other time. 

“ Now, you’ll write the checks, John. And 
you’ll say no word to the men — that goes for 
both. Stay right where you are, Walter.” 

There was a heavy trampling on the stairs, and 
Bill threw open the door into the outer office. 

“You can go,” he said to the girl, sitting wide- 
eyed behind her typewriting desk. “ Or, rather, 

. 249 


The Parowan Bonanza 

come in here. I may need you later on.’’ He 
raised his voice. Come on in, boys. A’s come 
first into the private office, B’s follow, and so on. 
And as you get your checks, please go right on 
out. Saves crowding.” 

He needn’t have worried about their going right 
out. The first A headed straight down to the 
bank, and the second A was presently at his heels. 
The workmen of Parowan Consohdated had lis¬ 
tened to ugly rumors too long to take chances. 

A late comer squeezed past and into the private 
office, accompanied by inquiries as to how he 
spelled his name. Bill turned his head and nodded 
at Tommy. 

‘ ^ All right — you sit over there by the win¬ 
dow,” he said carelessly, and went on with his 
work of watching Emmett write the pay checks, 
taking each one damp from his fingers, calling out 
the name of the man to whom it belonged and 
placing a pen in his fingers for the signing of the 
payroll. 

Bill saw the flare of surprise in more than one 
man’s eyes as he read the amount of his pay. 
Bill’s hand would clamp down on the man’s shoul¬ 
der for an instant with a friendly 'pressure as 
he spun the fellow out of the way of the next. 
He spoke to none, but he had a nod and a smile 
for many. He looked into the faces ofmen whom 

250 


Bill and the Tame Bandits 

he believed were guilty of treachery to the Com¬ 
pany and to him, but he gave no sign of suspicion. 
There were others who could have told him much, 
but he asked no question. The routine of payday 
was observed without comment. The only change 
was the paying of the men in the office. 

So presently the last man had clumped down 
the stairs and into the hank, and only Tommy re¬ 
mained, sitting grimly in his comer, staring owl- 
ishly through his thick-lensed glasses. Bill shot 
him a sidelong glance, lifted an eyebrow and bent 
over the check book before Emmett. John had a 
wonderful head for figures. The balance on the 
last stub would not have bought a dinner at the 
O^Hara House. 

Not much chance to graft off that,’’ grinned 
Bill, and pointed at the figures. Now, you spoke 
about debts. Dig ’em up, John.” 

‘‘ What’s that roughneck doing here?’’“Em¬ 
mett growled, looking at Tommy insultingly. 
“We don’t owe him anything.” 

“ Oh, yes, you do,” Bill retorted evenly. “ You 
owe him about the only thing in the world you’re 
able to pay. Implicit obedience. ’ ’ He paused to 
let’those two words sink in. “I never thought 
I’d ever have to call in a gun-man to camp on 
your shadow. But he’s here, and he’s got too 
many notches on his gun to be scared about add- 

251 


The Parowan Bonanza 

ing another one or two. Tommy, you’ll go with 
Mr. Emmett into the other office, and stand over 
him while he digs up Bills Payable. He should 
find them in a book — not in the right-hand drawer 
of his desk! You’re a gun-man. You know what 
I mean, I guess.” 

I do that, Mr. Dale,” Tommy rumbled om¬ 
inously. He ’ll return wit’ the Bills Payable, 
have no doubt of that.” 

Bill, this is an outrage! ” Walter Bayfield 
reached for the telephone, but Bill snatched it 
away from his finger tips. 

You’re damned right, it’s an outrage. But 
the remedy is going to be applied as fast as 
possible.” 

You ’re letting the lies that A1 Freeman told 
poison your mind. John and I have w^orked hard 
for this Company. We’ve gone without our sal¬ 
aries for three months now, because the funds 
were getting low. And this is all the thanks we 
get. You come blustering in here at the last 
minute, trying to bully and play the bad man. 
You can’t get away with it. Bill.” Bayfield shook 
his head sorrowfully. Bluffing won’t lift the 
Company out of the hole it’s in. You’ve paid 
off the men — but there are the stockholders to 
think of, and the "debts. And the ore has petered 
out. Bill. One of those rich surface deposits with 

252 


Bill and the Tame Bandits 

no depth to it.” He pursed his lips, drumming 
on the table with his fingers. Your fine friends 
from San Francisco dug out the last of it, Bill, 
for souvenirs. A fitting end to Parowan and the 
fortunes of Hopeful Bill Dale. A picturesque 
ending — but the end, nevertheless.” 

Bill did not trouble to answer him. In a mo¬ 
ment, Emmett returned with his arms full of 
books, the dangerous Tommy treading close on 
his heels. 

Not knowin’ which would be the right wan, 
I had him bring them all, Mr. Dale. An’ his gun 
was not in the right-hand drawer. It was in his 
pocket. Here it is, Mr. Dale, — in case yuh’ve 
neglected to pack wan yourself. An’ if yuh don’t 
mind, Mr. Dale, I’d like fer to have yuh search 
him fer a knife. Them’s the’kind of crooks that 
packs ’em, Mr. Dale, — as it’s been my experience 
to know. An’ I’d search the other wan whilst I 
was about it, Mr. Dale. I would that.” 

Tommy’s suggestion was gravely complied 
with, in the presence and to the horror of the 
wide-eyed typist. Bill apologized to her with a 
smile, but he did not suggest that she leave the 
room. Messrs. Bayfield and Emmett were wily 
gentlemen. The girl might easily be in their con¬ 
fidence and their private pay. He did not know 
where they had gotten her, but he remembered 

253 



The Parowan Bonanza 

that she had reigned supreme over the outer 
office ever since Parowan Consolidated had es¬ 
tablished itself there. 

Now, John, write checks for all these bills. 
All of them, that is, that are authentic. Have this 
girl get them ready for the mail. If youJl come 
with me, young lady, Idl help you bring your 
typewriter in here for sake of convenience. Mr. 
Emmett and Mr. Payfield are not moving about 
much, to-day./’ 


254 


CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 


BILL BUYS PAKOWAN 

On the streets groups of men stood and talked 
together, scanned eagerly the faces of pedestrians, 
asked questions that halted men in their stride, 
formed new groups as some fresh bit of news 
became known. And without exception, all up 
and down the town, men talked of Bill Dale and 
Parowan Consolidated. 

Before the bank a prominent group had gath¬ 
ered. Men went up and down the stairs to the 
office, coming out upon the street to run the 
gauntlet of human eyes, and sometimes saying, 

I got mine, all right — maybe.’’ A trip in to 
the teller’s window, and a nod of assurance as 
they came out again. 

Glances went up and clung to the windows of 
the office where a queer gathering sat silent, or 
did what Bill Dale commanded. Emmett and 
Bayfield had turned surly. The typist was in 
tears, having broken unexpectedly into speech. 
Things she had seen, sentences which she had 
overheard, trifles most of them, she told to Bill. 

255 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Nothing was sufficiently definite to serve as evi¬ 
dence of fraud, but she accomplished one thing 
at least: She convinced Bill that she was not in 
their plot, that she was innocent of all knowledge 
of the inner workings of the office. 

Bill had a lawyer there, — a man whom he 
trusted to a certain extent, though he was not 
really trusting any one save Tommy, just now. 
The lawyer took the girl ^s name and address, and 
told her that she might go for the time being. 
Which left Bill freer in his mind. He had not 
wanted to seem harsh with the girl if he could 
possibly avoid it. 

Bayfield looked up at him and sneered when 
the door closed behind her. 

Now youVe done every melodramatic stunt 
you can think of, with a lawyer in one room and 
an auditor in the next, and a roughneck with a 
gun at our backs, just what do you really expect 
to accomplish? It’s all well enough to dissolve 
the Corporation, as you say you intend to do; 
but you surely don’t expect to keep us here until 
that is accomplished, do you? ” 

It won’t take so long,” said Bill. “ The writ¬ 
ten consent of the stockholders, waiving a meet¬ 
ing, and so on — Fuller, here, has all the dope, 
and can give you the details — why, it won’t take 
long, at all.” 


256 


Bill Buys Parowan 

‘‘With stock scattered from Coast to Coast? 
Youdl have a nice time, Bill, getting the signa¬ 
tures of the stockholders! Then the necessity 
of fighting for his honor occurred to Bayfield. He 
blustered a good deal about the outrage, and about 
BilPs insanity and his ingratitude. 

“ ThaPs all right, Bill retorted imperturb¬ 
ably. “ And Parowan stock is not scattered as 
badly as you think, maybe. I hold most of it 
myself. Been picking it up all summer, fast as I 
could without sending the price up. And youVe 
helped quite a lot, unloading what you held, and 
lying about me and the way IVe been squander¬ 
ing the money. I didn T know all of it, until yes¬ 
terday. I thought you meant to carry things 
along smooth on the surface till the last minute, 
and then duck. I was ready for that. But you 
took me by surprise, working it this way. How¬ 
ever,’^ he yawned, “ I’m an adaptable cuss. 

‘ “You don’t know it, but there’s a bunch of 
bulletins being put up, right now, saying that 
Bill Dale will buy Parowan Consolidated at two 
dollars a share. Some will make money at that, 
and some will lose. But it can’t be helped; I 
can’t trail down every buyer and find out just 
what he paid. And the losers won’t lose so much 
as if you had played it through your way.” 

“ You damn fool,” said Bayfield softly, 

257 


The Parowan Bonanza 


You’ll spend your last dime for nothing. The 
ore’s gone. I made sure of that. No depth — 
like so many of these rich strikes.” His good eye 
dwelt speculatively upon the lawyer. Every¬ 
thing has been done properly, Mr. Fuller. Bill’s 
biting off more than a mouthful, and it’s your 
duty to tell him that he is not obliged to buy in 
the stock. John knows to a dollar what his income 
has been. It was big, I admit that. He’s had 
close to a million dollars out of the mine so far 
— and the town site. What he’s managed to 
spend is not my business, of course. But if he 
hadn’t spent a dollar, you can see where he will 
wind up if he tries to buy up Parowan stock. I 
wish he would, ’ ’ he sighed. ^ ‘ I hold some shares 
I should like to dispose of.” 

Oh, you’re going to get rid of them,” said 
Bill. ‘‘ Eight now while I’m in the mood, if 
you’ve got any sense. But don’t think I’ll pay 
you any fancy price. Ten cents a share for all 
you’ve got will be about right.” 

Eayfield studied him, gave up trying to read 
his mind, and accepted the price. With less grace, 
Emmett followed. They hadn’t much, and the 
insignificance of their holdings, their acceptance 
of his offer which he had intended as an insult, 
was more enlightening to Bill than all their pro¬ 
testations had been. 


258 


Bill Buys Parowan 

They believed the mine had been worked out. 
They had held np the faith of the pubhc until 
they could unload their stock; it was quite possi¬ 
ble that his agents had bought in theirs and paid 
them a good price for it. The market was broken 
now. A panic was growing in the town. People 
were leaving by the dozens. They could not have 
gone out of the office and sold Parowan stock for 
one tenth of what Bill had contemptuously offered 
them. 

A man came in, holding a long envelope in his 
hand. He moved deprecatingly toward Bill. 

It says down on the street that you’re paying 
two dollars for Parowan,” he said. I paid six 
for mine, but if you’ll take it at two dollars you 
can have it — and glad to get rid of it, ’ ’ he added 
in a mutter that Bill caught quite plainly. 

‘ ‘ Here’s your money. Go back and tell the rest 
it’s no dream,” Bill said shortly, blotting the 
check with a vicious thump of his fist. ‘ ‘ Ask them 
not to obstruct the traffic, if they can help it, and 
to please form in line.” 

The man folded his check and hurried out, 
ashamed of his act, but manifestly relieved to 
have recovered a part of his investment. In five 
minutes there were five other men in the office. 

All that day. Bill bought Parowan. The broker 
down the street, having been enterprising enough 

259 


The Parowan Bonanza 

to wire Goldfield, Tonopali, all the towns within 
reach, came and sold to Bill Parowan stock,— 
stock which he could not deliver until the mail 
came in. 

That night Doris met him in the door of the big 
house on the hill. Her face was white, her eyes 
clouded with troubled anger. 

Bill, you haven T been buying Parowan 
stock! ’’ she began, trembling all over. They 
told,me youVe been buying like a madman, for 
two dollars a share. It must be a lie. You aren’t 
that crazy! ” • 

Her emphasis hit Bill’s pride. He grinned 
down at her, though his eyes were tired and a 
bit sunken in his head. 

‘‘ Yup, I’m that crazy,” he said. Sign this 
slip of paper, and I’ll have bought yours, too. 
Only I’m paying top price for yours, old girl. 
You get five dollars.” 

Five hundred thousand dollars? ” She 
looked at him strangely. ‘ ‘ All right. Bill. Only, 
where’s the money? I’d have to sell for cash, 
dear.” 

Cash in the bank, sure. I haven’t that much 
on me, right now.” Bill sat down at the nearest 
table, pushed away a costly vase with flowers from 
Los Angeles drooping toward him, and shook his 
fountain pen. 


260 


Bill Buys Parowan 

His check fluttering faintly in her white fin¬ 
gers, he watched her scrawl her name under the 
agreement of sale. Doris Mary Dale,’’ she 
wrote, and he saw how her right hand shook, and 
that there was no breeze to flutter his check in 
her left hand. She stood up, breathing quickly. 

<< There’s that much you can’t throw away on 
strangers, ’ ’ she said triumphantly. ‘ ‘ And you 
can’t possibly have much more. But what pos¬ 
sessed you to buy stock you know is worthless? 
These people have made their money out of Paro¬ 
wan. Let them go! They’ll get it back in the 
next boom. They’re just rushing out of town as 
if we had the plague here,” she continued. The 
bottom’s dropped out of everything, I heard. 
And you stayed in that office and paid two dollars 
a share for Parowan stock! Bill, what did you 
do it for? ” 

Well, because I wanted Parowan stock, I 
guess,” Bill evaded her flippantly. And these 
poor devils needed to sell, I reckon. And there 
is such a thing as honor.” 

Honor! ” Doris stared at him. Do you 
mean to tell me there is any honor in throwing 
away your last dollar? I wonder,” she said, 
‘‘ whether you’ve got enough to cover this check! 
Have you gone over your account. Bill, since you 

261 


The Parowan Bonanza 

started this — this orgy of honor? You canH 
have this much left! ’’ 

Bill flushed, then paled slowly. 

*’‘ So you think I’d give you a bad check? ’’ His 
own voice shook slightly. Do you think that? 
[When IVe given you all of myself, and let this 
mine go to hell because I couldn’t be away from 
you, and you wanted to be where you could dazzle 
and be dazzled — do you think, when the whole 
thing smashes, I’d give you a bad check for your 
stock? You can give that check back to me, 
Doris.” His eyes burned into hers. As soon 
as mail can travel to Frisco and back. I’ll have 
the money for you. Or place it on deposit for 
you at the Hibernian — if you can trust the bank’s 
word when you get it 1 Since the co m mittee called 
here at the house, I’ve been writing checks. There 
hasn’t been a drunken Bohunk that asked if my 
check was good! Parowan has mopped them up 
and been glad to get them. It remains for my 
vnfe to question my honesty! ” 

He picked up his hat and left the house again, 
going back into the town. His nerves were raw, 
his pride had been seared over and over by the 
open distrust of men who had grown prosperous 
in the town he had created. He wanted sympathy, 
Doris’ arms around his neck, her indignant con¬ 
demnation of the thieves who had after all 

262 



Bill Buys Parowan 

wrecked the mine. He had thought that Doris 
would understand his reasons for doing what he 
had done. He had beheved that her own pride 
would demand that they stand back of Parowan 
with their last dollar. 

He sent a long code telegram to Baker Cole, 
and one to his bank. Then, with hell still in his 
heart, he walked up the other slope, across the 
gulch, and entered the tent (now boarded and 
roofed and floored, but otherwise not changed) 
Avhere he felt that he could at least call himself at 
home. 

Luella, banished since the fateful party that had 
set the gossips talking, greeted him with hysteri¬ 
cal chatter. Hez poked a cold nose ingratiatingly 
into his palm. Even Sister Mitchell, long ago re¬ 
trieved from her winter quarters under a rock by 
the cellar, crawled from under the stove and 
craned her long neck at him, begging for some¬ 
thing green. Bill looked in the cupboard and 
found nothing eatable. He had been away too 
long, he remembered now. He had lost count of 
the time, so completely had his mind been given 
to meet a humiliating situation in such a way 
that he need never be ashamed to look any man 
in the face. 

Well, his menagerie was hungry and begging 
for food. He went out again, hurried to the near- 

263 


The Parowan Bonanza 

est grocery and bought what he wanted, careless 
of the curious looks he excited. He stopped at 
Tommy’s Place and told Tommy that he wouldn’t 
be needed, close-herding anybody. The auditor 
had reported to Bill that he could find nothing 
wrong with the books, and there was not much 
chance of getting hold of any actual proof of 
crookedness against either Bayfield or Emmett. 

And are yuh still buyin’ Parowan stock, Mr. 
Dale? ” Tommy’s soft voice was softer, more 
plaintive than ever. 

‘‘ As long as there’s a share out, I’m in the 
market,” Bill answered shortly — defiantly too, 
though here was no reason for defiance. 

He returned to his camp and fed Sister Mitchell 
her lettuce, Luella a cookie, and flung a stale mut¬ 
ton chop outside the door for Hez. He did not 
cook anything for himself. He was too heartsick 
to think of food. The whole damnable robbery, 
the treachery, — and then, Doris! 

He tried to recall what words had passed be¬ 
tween them; to remember just what Doris had 
said. But then he knew that it was not the words; 
she had not actually said anything awful, he sus¬ 
pected. But her tones, the hard, condemning - 
look in her eyes! He could see her again, trem¬ 
bling with anger because he was spending money 
to keep his name —and hers — above reproach 

264 


Bill Buys Parowan 

among men. In all the time since they were mar¬ 
ried, Bill had never seen Doris like that. The 
months had not been altogether peaceful, to be 
sure. Doris had frequently found something in 
her husband that required correcting, had enu¬ 
merated his faults to him many, many times. 
She had often hurt Bill, had made him angry, so 
that he would go away until he forgot it. But 
there had been nothing like this. 

‘‘ Damn money, if that’s what it does to peo¬ 
ple! ” BiU groaned aloud, when Luella recalled 
him to his surroundings by crying, Give us a 
light! Give us a light! ” He lighted a lantern 
and hung it from the hook on the ridgepole, and 
for a long while he stood staring at the cased 
saxophone. 

Only two years ago he had dreamed of learning 
to play that thing, — to forward his wooing of 
Doris! 

‘‘ I didn’t need music,” he told himself bitterly, 
all her hysteria over money and luxury flooding 
his mind with a nauseating enlightenment. ‘ ^ She 
took me, quick enough, when she saw the gold! 
Money, money! That’s all she has thought of, 
from the day I showed her the vein. Little pea¬ 
cock, strutting around, showing off her finery. 
What a blind fool a man can be. And it had to 
wind up this way. She took money from me for 

265 



The Parowan Bonanza 

her stock — thinking it was my last dollar. Afraid 
my account wouldn ^t cover it! If she thinks I ^m 
that near broke, why did she take that check! 
Sell out, just like all the rest, because Parowan’s 
on the rocks and the stock ^s not worth a damn, 
and she stood to lose something if she didn^t 
unload quick. So she unloaded — five dollars a 
share because I offered it — to me! Her own hus¬ 
band, the man who gave her the claim that put 
her in the Company to begin with. 

What has she ever done to help! What’s 
she doing now! Looking after her own little dol¬ 
lar pile — that’s what. And she didn’t need^ it! 
I gave her half a million in bonds, last Christmas. 
My God, even Eayfield wouldn’t have done what 
she did to-night! And the way she’s treated her 
folks. That shows the stuff she’s made of. I 
don’t blame Don for turning me down every time 
I tried to do something for him. They’re proud 
—^the right kind of pride. They’re proud to 
make their own way. But Doris — neglecting 
them and not wanting them in California for a 
visit — excuses, the thinnest kind of excuses. 
Ashamed to have them at the hotels, that was 
why. She couldn’t bear the thought of leading 
her pudgy old mother and her big, awkward dad 
into the dining room to her table! Afraid they 
might eat their salad with the fork dedicated to 

266 


Bill Buys Parowan 

fish! Old Don might possibly put his soup spoon 
into his mouth front end forward! Snob! Cold¬ 
blooded, heartless little snob! ’’ 

So he railed at her, lashing his anger with the 
memory of her foolishness. But when he thought 
of baby Mary, his heart failed him. Beginning to 
toddle now, she was. And squinting her nose at 
him and laughing, and hiding her head in a cush¬ 
ion when he went down on his hands and knees 
and boo-ooed at her. Holding out her httle arms 
to him and pleading Take! when the nurse 
came to carry her off to bed. 

She must be in her little white nightgown now, 
with pink toes wriggling, little white teeth flash¬ 
ing when she laughed. He wondered, hungrily, 
if she missed her daddy, — wanted him to come 
and play little-pigs-going-to-market. 

Bill couldn’t stand it. He put on his hat and 
went out, locking the gate after him and steeling 
himseK against Luella’s protestations. He would 
go back to the big house on the hill. He couldn’t 
leave his baby girl to go ^‘bye-bye” without 
kissing her daddy good night. 

But when he had walked to where the house 
stood revealed to him, bold against the starry sky, 
his steps slowed, faltered, stopped altogether. 
All the big rooms were lighted brilliantly, as if 
there were a party in the house. He knew the 

267 


The Parowan Bonanza 

look, — having had his fill of that mockery of 
hospitality which Doris called entertaining. It 
would be like her, he told himself between clenched 
teeth. With Parowan fortunes sliding into the 
abyss of cataclysmic failure, it would be like Doris 
to throw wide her doors to merry-making, to fling 
her defiance into the face of the town over which 
disaster hovered vulturelike, waiting to feed upon 
the broken fortunes left in the wake of the boom. 

He looked for what seemed a long while at the 
window upstairs, where a dim light was burning 
in the comer room. He knew well the meaning 
of that light also. It meant that baby Mary was 
in her bed, tucked in by the nurse, while her 
mother laughed and talked and ‘ ‘ entertained ^ ’ in 
the drawing-rooms below. 

Bill muttered a great oath, turned and went 
back to his dingy little board-and-canvas camp. 


268 


CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 


BILL IS BACK WHERE HE STARTED 

Bill bought Parowan stock. When he saw that 
the price he had named was holding back many 
sales, that many a stockholder suspected a shrewd 
motive in his buying and held on in the hope of 
riding another high wave of frenzied finance, Bill 
gave a snort and sent another bulletin out from 
Parowan headquarters. He would buy Parowan 
stock at one-fifty. 

That day he wrote checks, an unpleasant curl 
of the lip betraying his consciousness of his wife, 
of the look in her eyes, of the hard bitterness of 
her tones because he was spending money on 
something other than her whims. His anger held 
and hardened with the congealing quality of his 
contempt for her selfishness, her cold-blooded ac¬ 
quisitiveness. He felt that the greatest ease he 
could know was never to see Doris again so long 
as he lived. 

Wherefore, he did not go home. But Doris 
called him on the telephone, just before noon. 

‘ ‘ Bill, are you going to be home for luncheon I ’ ^ 

269 


The Parowan Bonanza 


“ No.” 

When are you coming, then? Don’t you re¬ 
alize what people will be saying? I should think 
you might have some little consideration for me. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I can trust you to attend to that matter, ’ ’ Bill 
replied evenly. I have never yet known you 
to fail. When I hear from San Francisco I shall 
let you know. I wired last evening, and should 
hear to-day or to-morrow.” 

‘‘ Bill Dale, you-” 

Yes. Certainly. Good-by.” Bill hung up 
and turned back unemotionally to his work. His 
lawyer, who sat within three feet of him, believed 
that Bill was speaking to a chent, or an employee 
of some kind. 

The next day, Parowan Consolidated dropped 
to one dollar, and people were selling by wire, — 
and Bill was buying. He was appalled at the 
amount of stock which had been placed on the 
market and sold at boom prices. The incorpora¬ 
tion had been for two million shares. There had 
been two million, seven hundred thousand shares 
issued. The auditor had discovered that for Bill. 

Bill had a happy half-hour, thinking that he had 
‘‘ got the goods ” on Eayfield and Emmett. But 
Fuller, the attorney, dug into the records and dis¬ 
covered just when and where and how the capital 
stock had been increased nearly one million 

270 



Bill is Back Where He Started 

shares. Bill called to mind the times when he had 
been asked, just as he put on his hat to leave after 
some brief visit to the office, ‘‘ Oh, just sign up 
these minutes, Mr. President. Catch you while 
I can, is the only way T can get at you! And 
Bill, knowing that Doris was waiting for him, had 
signed minutes, documents, stock and check books 
hastily, without giving the time he should have 
devoted to the reading. So the capital stock had 
been increased with his official sanction, but with¬ 
out his knowledge. There w^as nothing that he 
could say, nothing that he could do. An officer 
of a corporation is supposed to know the official 
acts of his organization. 

Well, he had himself to blame, if there were 
more Parowan stock floating around than he had 
any idea of. He was prepared to buy every share 
that he himself did not hold, — and Doris. He 
had counted on Doris standing at his shoulder, 
since she had more than half a million in her own 
right and could never want for money unless she 
deliberately squandered it. Now, when he should 
be nearing the end of his buying, he found himself 
far from the goal. 

He went out and wired again to Baker Cole — 
an urgent call to liquidate at once all his hold¬ 
ings in the big Baker-Cole oil interests — and to 
place the money at his disposal in the Hibernian. 

271 


The Parowan Bonanza 

Then he went hack to the office and continued 
to buy Parowan at one dollar. More stock was 
coming in. The gamblers, having no inside in¬ 
formation — though they tried hard enough to get 
hold of it — lost their nerve and began to let go. 
But not fast enough for Bill, who was impatient 
to be through with the thing. 

Parowan dropped to ninety, the new price being 
sent out imperturbably from BilPs office. More 
stock came in. The papers were full of the crash, 
full of wild rumors of the cause, full of Bill Dale’s 
insane buying — or was it insane? Certainly, it 
was sensational. No stockholder could possibly 
remain in ignorance of the facts, the worst of the 
rumors concerning Bill and the mine. 

Sell! Sell! Every one was crying it. Sell 
before Bill Dale goes broke or quits buying be¬ 
cause he has enough. They sold frantically. 
After Bill had bought so much, the most credulous 
old woman who held ten shares could not fail to 
see that she was hopelessly in the minority; that 
she would never get one dime for Parowan, un¬ 
less Bill Dale willed that she should. 

So it went on for a week. At the end of that 
time, the silence was broken between Bill and 
Doris. One evening, in a cape borrowed from 
her maid, Doris visited Bill at his camp. 

Bill thought that it was Tommy, until Doris had 

272 


Bill is Back Where He Started 

closed the rough door behind her and stood there 
looking around the crude little place with its can¬ 
vas walls and roof (inside, the room was still 
nearly all canvas) and at Bill hunkered down be¬ 
fore the cookstove, blowing up his tire. She stood 
looking at him in silence. Perhaps she remem¬ 
bered that other night when she had cried, ‘ ‘ Bill! 
Bill Dale! Let me in! Perhaps she remem¬ 
bered the light in BilPs eyes then, the happy 
quiver of his lips which he could not hold from 
smiling just because she was there- 

^ ^ Oh, hello, ’ ’ he greeted involuntarily when she 
did not speak. I thought it was Tommy.He 
stood up, looking down at her. There was no 
light in his eyes now. His lips were pressed to¬ 
gether in a straight line, and he waited guardedly 
for her to speak first. She came up and held her 
ringed hands over the stove, for the night was 
cool. Perhaps, too, she wanted to be near him, 
to watch his face. 

“ Well, Bill, since I am to be left a widow, 
she said lightly, ‘‘I’m going back to the Coast. 
Well, of course, I’m joking about the widow — 
though I’m sure I don’t know what folks are say¬ 
ing about you not being home for days. I never 
saw such an ugly temper as you’ve got. I came 
to say that I’m leaving for Santa Barbara to¬ 
morrow. I want to be early so as to get a good 

273 



The Parowan Bonanza 

suite before the crowd arrives. I suppose you’ll 
at least help me get there and get settled? ” 

Bill smiled darkly. Any girl that’s able to 
sling a pack on a horse and get out on this desert 
alone, and think nothing of it,” he said, ought 
to be able to take a train ride alone — with two 
hired women to wait on her.” 

Do you mean you won’t go? ” 

‘‘ I mean, I won’t leave here. I might convoy 
you to your pet hotel, if you’ll wait till I have 
time. But if you want to go now, you’ll have to 
go alone. ’ ’ 

Bill, sometimes I think I hate you! ” 

Never mind. That’ll soon settle into a fixed 
habit — soon as I’m broke.^’ 

You’re the most stubborn man I ever saw 
in my life. No one knows what I have endured 
from you. Everything must be your way — 
nothing that I say or do is worth your considera¬ 
tion. You never would listen to me—I know 
now that you must have been making money on 
the side, that you never told me about. If you 
hadn’t you never could have acted the fool and 
kept it up the way you have, buying in worthless 
stock. ’ ’ 

‘‘'‘You didn’t find it worthless,” Bill could not 
refrain from reminding her. You made a good 
thing out of yours, don’t you think? There’s not 

274 


Bill is Back Where He Started 

a man in the country can call Parowan stock 
worthless. What are you kicking about f 

Doris looked him over scornfully. What a 
fool you are! she said. Beggaring yourself 
just so you may have the satisfaction of saying 
that Parowan stock is worth par.’^ 

Ninety cents/’ Bill corrected her ca lml y. I 
dropped it a bit to-day — shaking loose a few that 
have been hanging on.” 

I suppose,” said Doris, you consider it a 
great achievement, buying up Parowan. Corner¬ 
ing a worn-out mine! ’ ’ 

Bill reached for the coffeepot, measured out 
coffee and poured in water from a dented tea¬ 
kettle. He was sick of fruitless argument with 
Doris. She was as she was made, he told himself 
resignedly. Some persons are unable by nature 
to see beyond a dollar, and Doris, he considered, 
was one of them. 

Have you ever thought of me, in this per¬ 
formance of yours? ” she cried, stung by his 
silence. I am your wife. What right had you 
to throw away money the way you have done, 
without even asking me what I thought about it? 
Throwing away-’ ’ 

“ You aren’t worrying about your hotel bill, 
are you? I believe you still have a few nickels 
left. You ought to make out — for awhile, any- 

275 



The Parowan Bonanza 

way. I can land a job, maybe, after this blows 
over.’^ 

A job! Youdl land in the insane asylum, if 
you keep on. I wish I’d never seen you. Bill 
Dale! ” 

In that case,” said Bill, looking up from slic¬ 
ing bacon, ‘‘ you’d still be pun chin’ cows for your 
dad, most likely.” 

Doris gave him one furious glare and swept 
past him. ‘ ‘ I hate the ground you walk on! ” she 
cried. ^ ‘ I hope I never see you again, as long as 
I live! ” 

Bill went on slicing bacon, even after he had 
heard the gate slam. When he came to himself, 
he had sliced enough for ten hungry men. 

You won’t, if I can help it,” he said tardily; 
so tardily that Doris was probably at home by that 
time. 

But nothing is immutable save the Law, and 
Bill was up at the big house, the next day, attend¬ 
ing to the small details of departure. Baby Mary 
was in his arms, bonneted and ready to go, a 
full hour before the train left. Bill wondered 
dully how he was ever going to loosen his clasp 
of her warm little body and let her go with Doris, 
— out of his hfe, since the break between him 
and her mother was irrevocable. 

He wondered if Doris would divorce him. But 

276 


Bill is Back Where He Started 

he would have bitten his tongue in two before he 
would ask. She was keeping up the pretense, 
speaking to him pleasantly when a servant was 
within hearing, ignoring his presence when they 
chanced to be alone. 

At the depot, whither he accompanied them, 
still carrying httle Mary in his arms, Doris 
chatted lightly of trivial things and smiled fre¬ 
quently at Bill. The eyes of Parowan were upon 
them, and Doris would give them nothing more to 
roll under their tongues. 

I wired for reservations at the hotel, Bill 
told her, as he was helping her on the train. I 
asked for our old suite back, if possible. Thought 
you^d like it.^’ 

“ I thought I^d get one in the other wing,^^ 
Doris answered perversely. But thaPs all 
right, dear. Well, I’ll write immediately, of 
course. Good-by, dear! ” 

Bill hugged little Mary to him, gave her one 
kiss and put her in her nurse’s arms. The last he 
heard was the baby’s voice screaming, Daddy, 
take! 

He went back to the office and bought Parowan 
stock with a fierce eagerness that made Fuller, the 
attorney, look at him queerly. 

Before the week was out, Parowan Consoli¬ 
dated was dissolved and BiU was watching the 

277 


The Parowan Bonanza 

last of the town’s inhabitants leaving on the trail 
down the mountain side, and by train. The boom 
was busted.” From the Bill Dale mansion on 
the hill to the meanest shack perched on the edge 
of the gulch, the houses of Parowan stood empty. 
Bill had not lied to them. He had told them that 
there would be nothing for them in the town. He 
had advised anxious-eyed storekeepers to get out 
while they could, carry their stock to some other 
town and sell it or open another store. They had 
taken his advice. The exodus, while orderly, had 
been complete. 

One little store, the one nearest Bill’s camp, 
remained much as it had been when Bill made his 
last purchases there. The storekeeper had a wife 
and a lot of children, and he had wanted to get 
out on a ranch that he owned near Keno. He was 
sick of business. He tried to sell, and nobody 
would buy. They had enough on their hands, 
getting out with their own goods, and landing 
business. They needed all their cash, and more 
too, they said. So Bill, hearing it all while he 
purchased coffee and a pomid of butter and a few 
cans of milk, set down his packages and bought 
the man out. Not that he was trying to see how 
much money he could spend, but because he would 
need supplies and he thought that this was the 
cheapest way to stock up. 

278 


Bill is Back Where He Started 

One night, then, Bill sat down to his supper in 
the tent-shack and told Luella and Hez that they 
had the place to themselves. Parowan, as a town, 
was a thing of the past. That day, the train had 
made its last trip into the deserted camp. Its 
sole freight consisted of six cases of wine and 
whisky for Tommy’s place — a consignment de¬ 
layed somewhere in transit. 

‘‘ What are you kicking about? ” Luella in¬ 
quired sharply. 

Nothing,” said Bill stubbornly, Nothing 
at all.” 

Tommy came in, peering through his glasses at 
Bill. He grinned, setting his lantern down on the 
table. 

<< The ghosts’ll be out this night, I’m thinkin’, 
Mr. Dale,” he observed slily. I’ve been all over 
the town, an’ here’s the only stovepipe that’s 
smokin’ t’night. Not mine — I thought mebby 
yuh might ast me t’ eat wit’ yuh, an’ so I cooked 
nawthin’ fer m’self.” 

Bill nodded and got another cup and plate. “ I 
thought you went to-day, ’ ’ he said. 

‘‘ Me? Wit’ the stock I’ve bought an’ the stock 
I’ve belt befoor, I’ve a right t’ stay wit’ my in¬ 
vestment. ’ ’ 

Bill studied him. So it’s you has been hold¬ 
ing out on Parowan! ” He laughed shortly not 

279 


The Parowan Bonanza 

quite pleased. '‘Well, you'd better fork over, 
Tommy. I'll buy your stock. You know, don't 
you, that the Company's dissolved — there aint 
no more Parowan Consolidated. What's left of 
the mine belongs to Bill Dale. Right where it be¬ 
gan, it finishes. How much have you got?" Al¬ 
most mechanically he reached for his fountain 
pen. The thought struck him that now, at last, 
he might not be able to buy Tommy out for any 
decent price. He might not have money enough. 
As poor as when he had followed his burros into 
Goldfield was BiU. But he had his mine; he had 
his self-respect. 

"I'm not sellin' Parowan stock," said Tommy 
stiffly. " When I seen you was buyin', I bought 
from them that come in the s'loon an' talkin'. If 
they's no Company left, I can thank Gawd fer 
that. An' we'll own the mine, the two of us. Fer 
I have no wish t' sell, Mr. Dale. Phwat's good 
enough fer you that found it, sh'd be good enough 
fer me. I'm keepin' my share. An' I'm thinkin' 
we'll find the ore, Mr. Dale, spite o' the experts 
that says it's gone. 'Tis not gone s' far but we 
can find it — you an' me worrkin' t'gether — 
though phwat yer plan is I dunno-'' 

Bill gulped. His eyes shone wet between his 
lashes, though he tried to laugh. 

"You bought — because I bought. Tommy, 

280 





Bill is Back Where He Started 

you’re the biggest damn fool in Nevada. You 
ought to be shot.” 

Yiss,” said Tommy, and blinked at him. 
But not fer quittin’ a friend, Mr. Dale. The 
durrty houn’s that came an’ fed from yer hand, 
an’ when yuh had no more for them, they streaked 

it outa town an’ left yuh holdin’ the sack-” 

“ Aw, shut up! ” Bill’s tone was gruff. 
^ ^ This may not be 0 ’Kara cooking, but — fill your 
plate. I ’ll do my killing in the morning. ’ ’ 

‘‘Yuh will not —Bill.” And Tommy pulled 
up a box, threw his hat into a comer and snickered 
happily over his supper. 



281 



CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 


THE TOWN THAT WAS 

Eveky day after that Bill would go up to the 
mine, Tommy and Hez shambling along at his 
heels. First of all, Bill must examine the work¬ 
ings closely to see where and why the vein first 
showed signs of petering out.’’ He knew that 
rich veins are tricky, that they seldom hold up 
under mining. Either the values drop as the ore 
body increases in volume, or the vein will, pinch 
out, perhaps never to be rediscovered. He had 
to know just what had been done, what formations 
had been cut, just how the vein had dipped into 
the hill. 

He took his time, and his work was simplified 
because the workings were not really extensive. 
It sickened him to see how they had gutted the 
rich vein and passed up tiny stringers that might 
lead to other rich deposits. So far as he could 
determine, Rayfield had not attempted to explore 
the further resources of the mine. He had taken 
what was in sight, easy to mine, and had neglected 
the development of other possible veins. 

282 


The Town that Was 

Well, lie had probably been frightened otf with 
A1 Freeman’s story and had proceeded to rake in 
as much loot as possible before the crash came. 
All the better for Bill, if he could pick up the 
vein again, or locate further deposits. It would 
be slow, with only two pairs of hands for the work. 
Bill could not even keep the compressor going, 
so that they could use the air drills. 

“ It’s the hand-drilling for us. Tommy,” he 
decided, one night while they planned. I can’t 
afford to run that machinery — that’s flat. I’m 
broke, so far as working men and machinery are 
concerned. I want you to know it before I start 
in. I’ve got less than a thousand dollars in the 
bank. I could borrow — I’ve a friend in Cali¬ 
fornia that would come in here and open things 
wide up, and like the fun of it. He doesn’t know 
how rich he is; doesn’t care. Never saw the bot¬ 
tom of his dollar pile, anyway. 

But the truth of the matter is, I want to do 
this alone. If it takes the rest of my hfe, I mean 
to stick here and find that ore. I mean to bring 
Parowan to the front again. That’s why I bought 
everything up and spent practically my last dol¬ 
lar to do it. But you don’t have to stick. It isn’t 
your pride that was ground under their heels. 
If I hadn’t been able — well, that doesn’t matter, 
now.. But thank the Lord my money held out! 

283 


The Parowan Bonanza 

They can call me crazy, but they caiiT say I'm 
a quitter." 

They can not. An' Tommy'll be right here 
when the boom comes back — make no mistake, 
Bill. The furrst place of business will be Tom¬ 
my's Place — an' I'm keepin' it swep' out an' 
the glasses wiped, agin that day when we strike 
ore. I am, that." 

Bill did not answer. He was thinking of one 
other place that was swept and dusted regularly 
every Sunday. Not because he had any hope that 
Boris would live in it, nor because of any desire, 
even. It troubled him now and then to think 
how his heart was hardening toward Doris. Per¬ 
haps he did it for baby Mary; because he had built 
her a home. She wouldn't remember — but some 
day, when she was a woman, she could come back 
and see her little crib, up in the corner bedroom. 
A scutfed pair of shoes left in a drawer. A 
broken, rubber doll with the whistle tom out. 
And she would know that she had crept over 
these floors, had slept under this roof; that this 
had been her home. 

Never once did it occur to Bill that he could 
sell the furnishings of the house for enough 
money to hire miners, run his machinery, expe¬ 
dite his work in a dozen different ways. He would 
have fought the man who suggested such a thing. 

284 


The Town that Was 

He would walk through the room — wearing 
rich-man shoes so that the floors would not be 
marred — and dream of the baby, trying all the 
while to shut Doris out of his mind. She had 
not seemed like his Doris, this proud young 
woman who rustled her silken gowns through the 
house, flashed her jewels and spoke imperiously to 
her servants. No, that was not the Doris he had 
loved. His Doris had been tanned and frank of 
eye and of speech. She had been lithe and com¬ 
petent, and looked life honestly in the face. His 
heart was very empty, sometimes, very hungry 
for that Doris whom he had loved. He even 
caught himself dreaming about her, now and then, 
— almost forgetting the other Doris who had 
kissed him good-by because others were watching 
and would gossip if the parting seemed too cold. 
A Judas kiss, it had seemed to Bill. He tried 
to forget it, lest his hatred grow against her. 

Every Sunday, Tommy would sweep and dust 
and polish, — and dream, perchance, some hidden 
little dream of his own. Bill would disappear 
for hours, coming in after sunset with tired eyes 
and with lines beside his mouth. And neither 
would speak of how the time had been spent. 

But the rest of Parowan was given over to the 
winds of the desert spaces. Doors began to sag, 
windows rattled. When the wind blew strong, 

285 


The Parowan Bonanza 

corrugated iron roof would hammer like anvil 
blows. Old papers swept through the streets to 
lodge ghostlike in the comers. It was a place of 
desolation, watched over proudly by the big 
house on the hill, with its sheeted furniture and 
its big, plate-glass windows that looked and 
looked, and framed no face but BilPs, staring 
out through them moodily upon the town and 
the desert beyond. 

For a time there had been a certain somber 
activity about the camp, daytimes. Men hauled 
away salvage where ownership could be proved 
to BilPs satisfaction, — and Bill was hard to sat¬ 
isfy, these days. Precious time was lost from 
their mine while he and Tommy guarded against 
looting. For practically all of Parowan belonged 
to Bill Dale, and he was showing himself hard, 
grasping, suspicious, a man who carried a gun 
for the first time in years, and who would shoot, 
give him provocation. 

A railroad gang appeared — with flat cars and 
their cookhouse — and took up the rails, leaving 
the ties on the roadbed. Twenty miles away, 
running past the Hunter ranch with a flag sta¬ 
tion at his largest spring, the railroad still con¬ 
tinued to give service of a sort between Los 
Angeles and Tonopah. But Parowan was mped 
disdainfully off its map. It became a speck, 

286 



The Town that Was 

away out on the southern slope of the mountain, 
— too far away to tempt the idly curious, espe¬ 
cially with Bill Dale, said to be a little 
resenting prowlers in the town that was; too dead 
to bring the meanest man there for gain. In this 
fashion was Parowan set apart from other de¬ 
cadent • mining camps. Loot — men prowling 
through the buildings looking for whatever might 
be carried otf — Parowan was saved that indig¬ 
nity. The big house on the hill must have been 
a temptation; but no one quite wanted to risk 
it. The general opinion was that Bill lived in 
the house, and spent much of his time watching 
the town. 

This opinion was strengthened by the fact 
that Bill did come down from the big house, one 
Sunday, and drive a looting party out of town 
with the silent ferocity of a jungle tiger. They 
did not come back. Bill had emptied his six- 
shooter after them, furrowing the dirt just behind 
their heels. It was close shooting. They took 
the hint. 

For awhile. Bill and Tommy occupied them¬ 
selves with packing the best railroad ties up to 
the mine, using Wise One and Angelface — and 
the two other burros which Bill had bought, and 
W'hich had been called whatever came handiest — 
principally epithets coined for the occasion. The 

287 


The Parowan Bonanza 

ties made splendid mine timbers. They were pre¬ 
paring for a long siege. 

Fall chilled to winter. Sister Mitchell disap¬ 
peared, and Bill began to hunt mittens for Tommy 
and himself. They had all the supplies they 
would need for a long, long time. The little store 
had catered to miners and carried a well-balanced 
stock of general supplies, ranging from needles 
and thread and candy and gum, to picks and over¬ 
alls and shoes. And in the shed behind was a 
full ton of grain. The burros would not suffer 
in the work before them. For the burros, too, 
would have to help. 

Bill rigged a sweep arrangement which miners 
call a whim. It was the duty of the burros to 
walk round and round in a circle, and hoist the 
muck, when the two men settled down to their 
mining. They didn’t like it, but they did like 
their pint of rolled barley at the end of the shift, 
so that even the burros became resigned to their 
labor; so resigned that they would walk of their 
own accord into their places, ready to be har¬ 
nessed to the whim. 

One evening, when Tommy failed to show up 
after supper. Bill unhooked the saxophone case 
from its nail in the ridgepole and took out the in¬ 
strument, fitting it together tentatively as if he 
were not at all sure that he would want to play 

288 


The Town that Was 

it or do more than look it over. That first winter 
on the Coast, before his dreams had died of star¬ 
vation, Bill had yielded to temptation and ar¬ 
ranged for lessons on the saxophone. A Sunday 
advertisement had given him the idea, and Bill 
had worked hard, practising for two hours a day 
at a studio under the tutelage of a stem hut thor¬ 
ough teacher. That was before he awoke to the 
fact that saxophones were not for the elect, and 
that Doris declined to agree with him that it 
would be nice if they could play things together. 

The valves were stiff, to begin with. Bill oiled 
them carefully and tried out his fingering. 
Swinging a single-jack, he discovered, did not 
tend to increase the flexibility of the fingers, but 
not all his patient work in the studio was lost. He 
wiped the mouthpiece absently, adjusted the reed 
to his liking and began to play, while Luella 
screamed at him hysterically. 

Fer Gawd sake, Bill! she implored, just 
as Tommy came panting into the yard, having 
run all the way from his saloon. 

Don’t you start in,” Bill warned, looking up 
under his eyebrows at Tommy while he went 
down to low C and lingered there heartrendingly, 
finishing Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep ” 
to his own satisfaction, at least. 

‘‘ Fer Gaw-wd sake! ” Tommy breathed in an 

289 


The Parowan Bonanza 

awed half-wMsper. There’ll be no pinochle 
this night, Bill Dale. Yuh’ll be playin’ music — 
an ’ it hits the spot — it does that! ’ ’ He did not 
mention what spot, and Bill did not ask. 

To Bill, the saxophone marked a milestone in 
his troubles. He could play it and enjoy himself 
without thinking too bitterly of Doris. But he 
never explained to himself why it was that he 
stuck to the things he had learned in San Fran¬ 
cisco; why it was that he never played Love’s 
Old Sweet Song.” 


290 


CHAPTEE TWENTY-FIVE 


HOPELESS BILL DALE 

Cheistmas came, by the big calendar that hung 
on the wall of Tommy ^s Place. It did not come 
in the heart of Bill Dale. Don Hunter, riding 
thoughtfully to dead Parowan, begged Bill to 
come and spend the holiday at the ranch. Mother 
Hunter, he said, had made fresh mincemeat and 
was fattening a turkey, and she’d feel hurt if 
Bill didn’t show up to help celebrate. 

Bill was standing by the whim, watching 
Tommy unhitch the burros from the sweeps. 
Bill’s face was grimed, his shoulders drooped a 
bit. He had put in five long holes since noon, and 
the rock was hard. His eyes went down to the 
empty roofs of Parowan that was; wandered far¬ 
ther, to where the big house stood staunchly upon 
its knoll, solid, beautiful, — but with no smoke 
curling up into the nipping air. 

Tell her I’m sorry, Don. I can’t — keep 
Christmas.” He swung away and went down 
the trail, biting his lip, fighting the hot surge of 
rebellious thoughts. Christmas! Good God, did 

291 


The Parowan Bonanza 

they thiiih: he was made of stone ? Did they think, 
because he wouldn’t whine like a beaten dog — 
did they think it meant so little to him — all this 
desolation ? 

Dead — inside and out,” he muttered fiercely. 
And they think I can eat turkey and mince pie 
and call it — Christmas! ’ ’ 

Behind him, hazing the burros. Tommy was 
talking plaintively to Don. 

I wouldn’t urrge ’im, Mr. Hunter. He worrks 
like tin men, he does. An’ he eats hearty, an’ he 
plays pinochle wit ’ me of an evenin ’. He’s bavin ’ 
’is joke wit’ me an’ the burrd an’ the dorg — but 
I’ve eyes in me head, Mr. Hunter. The heart of 
’im’s weepin’ tears of blood whilst the lips of 
’em’s laughin’ belike. It shows in the eyes of 
’im. It does that, Mr. Hunter.” 

There was no Christmas in Parowan, then. On 
that day Bill worked harder than ever, and mor¬ 
tared and panned some pieces of quartz that 
seemed likely looking rock.” He got colors in 
the pan and professed to be very much encour¬ 
aged. He talked about formations and ore de¬ 
posits and bedding planes, on Christmas night, 
until Tommy fell asleep in his chair and dropped 
his pipe, breaking the mouthpiece. 

I’ll make you a bargain, Tommy,” Bill said 
then, his eyes brighter than they should be. 

292 


Hopeless Bill Dale 

We ^11 go over to my store, and you can pick out 
the best pipe there. And then, if youVe human, 
you’ll invite me into your ‘ Place ’ and set ’em up. 
I’d like to get drunk — stony, blind drunk. But I 
don’t think I shall, because I want to put in a 
thundering big day to-morrow.” 

Tommy blinked and couldn’t find his hat, which 
was on his head. And Bill laughed at him all the 
way to the store. He laughed, too, when he 
pushed Tommy behind the bar to serve the drinks; 
made him put on a white apron, polish the bar 
with a towel before and afterwards, — do the 
thing in style. But neither of them mentioned 
Christmas. 

After that. Bill went away, still laughing at 
something funny. He said that he was going to 
bed. But the next morning, when Tommy went 
over to Bill’s camp for breakfast, there were 
Bill’s tracks in the fresh-fallen snow, — tracks 
coming up from across the gulch and turning in at 
the gate. Seeing them there. Tommy blinked 
again. He knew that it had not snowed until 
dawn was breaking. 

One day, when Tommy was washing the dishes 
— Bill taking a turn at the black smithing — he 
came across two letters tucked behind a jar of 
fermenting peaches which should have gone into 
the discard days ago. Tommy pulled out the en- 

293 


The Parowan Bonanza 

velopes, goggled down at them and saw that one 
was addressed to Parowan, Nevada, and that the 
address had been covered by a red stamped no¬ 
tice, ‘‘ NO SUCH POSTOFFICE/’ Below that 
was another address — where the Hunters got 
their mail. The other envelope bore a later date, 
and was addressed in care of H. L. Hunter. 
Neither envelope had been opened, — an over¬ 
sight which caused Tommy some anxiety. He 
thought it was darned careless of Don Hunter to 
put them up in the cupboard and say nothing 
about them. 

So, ^ ^ Here’s a coupla letters Mr. Hunter musta 
brought yuh an’ fergot to give yuh,” he said, the 
moment Bill stepped inside for a drink. 

Bill took the letters, glanced at them, lifted 
the lid of the stove and thrust them deep into 
the fire. 


294 


CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 


BILL ACQUIEES A COOK 

We^ee on the right track/^ said Bill, and 
gathered np an armful of dulled steel to sharpen 
the next morning, preferring his own little forge 
by the camp for that purpose, and passing by the 
bigger shop at the mill. 

‘‘We are that,’^ Tommy agreed, just as he had 
agreed every day for the past month. “ She^s 
talkin^ to us. Bill. She’s t’rowed out ’er thread 
uh gold, an’ says, ‘ Will yuh folly the t’read, now, 
byes ? ’ A mont ’ ago she said that — she did. ’ ’ 

“ We’re on the trail,” Bill repeated mechan¬ 
ically. ‘ ‘ It may be a damn long one, but it’s got 
to end.” 

“ It has,” said Tommy, bouncing a rock off 
Wise One’s rump. “ Ivery trail has got an ind 
to it. Bill — it has, that.” 

BiU walked several paces. “ I wonder,” he 
said then. 

“ Did yuh leave a fire. Bill, in the stove? ” 
Tommy broke a moody silei^ce. “ She’s smokin’ 
yit” 


295 



The Parowan Bonanza 

It’s Don,” Bill said indifferently. I wish 
they’d quit worrying over me. Hell, you’d think 
I never spent months in the desert before! I hate 
to be treated like a sick kid,” he added 
querulously. 

Wit’ a fire starrted a’ready, supper’ll be 
quicker got,” Tommy observed plaintively, and 
made for the camp. I’ll warrm up the beans 
an’ bile the coffee in the time it takes t’ tell it,” 
he said. 

Bill went on with his steel and dumped it be¬ 
side the blacksmith shop. The heads of two 
horses showed over the front gate, — Don’s 
horses. Bill felt a contraction of the throat. He 
wished they would leave him alone; their un¬ 
spoken loyalty hurt; their sympathy made him 
writhe. And then, Don might bring letters. Bill 
felt as if he could not bear to see another letter. 

So he walked into the camp — from which 
Tommy had fled — and confronted Doris. Bill 
pushed the door shut behind him and leaned 
against it, not knowing that he did so. He did 
not speak. 

Doris, in khaki riding skirt and flannel shirt, 
her hair braided down her back, was standing by 
the table, on which were three plates, three cups. 
She was holding a can of tomatoes in one hand, 

296 


Bill Acquires a Cook 

and with the other she was trying to open the 
can with a dull can-opener. 

‘‘ Did the man ever live,” she asked, that 
kept a decently sharp knife or anything on the 
place? ” 

Bill came fbrward mechanically, took the can 
from her and opened it Doris stood back and 
■watched him, her breath coming unevenly. Bill’s 
eyes were fixed upon the slight task. He did not 
look up. 

Everything else is all — ready,” Doris said. 

I thought maybe — I thought I’d use up those 
cold biscuits in a tomato stew. Tommy says he 
boards himself. I — would you rather have them 
cold out of the can? ” 

Bill looked into her face. His eyes seemed hard 
and bitter, with those hollows beneath. 

‘‘ What’s the matter? Did your money play 
out ? ’ ’ His voice was hard, too — though God 
knows he did not mean to be hard. He was try¬ 
ing so hard not to be a fool! 

Why, no.” Doris winced a bit before she 
straightened her shoulders. I can stew them 
in just a minute, if you’d rather.” She stood 
waiting his decision, the can in her two hands 
before her. Her own eyes were sparkling, but 
social training helps a lot when one wants to 
cover emotion deep out of sight. Which? ” 

297 



The Parowan Bonanza 

‘‘Oh — any way.’^ Bill turned away to the 
wash basin, feeling the old, baffled bewilderment. 
He washed his face, caught himself wishing he 
had shaved, swore at himself silently for the 
craven thought. Doris had chosen to come. Let 
her take him as she found him, or — not at all. 
He dried his hands carefully, glad of his broken 
nails. He combed his hair before the little, square 
mirror, spitefully pleased with Tommy’s attempt 
at a hair-cut, — though his remarks had been 
biting at the time. 

“ Well, how’s the social elect? ” he asked iron¬ 
ically, unconsciously responding to her presence 
so far that he stood beside his chair until she was 
seated. He never did that for Tommy. 

Doris poured his coffee with the grace he had 
loved when they were on their honeymoon,— 
when the coffeepot was silver and the cups toy 
things of china. She held out his chipped enamel 
cup to him with gracious composure. 

“ The elect? They’re riding and golfing and 
swimming and bridging, as usual.” Then, un¬ 
expectedly, “ I left baby down with mother and 
daddy. She’s awfully well — little monkey; she 
trots around all over the place.” 

Bill set his teeth and kept his composure. In 
a moment he could risk speaking. His voice was 
so steady that it was brutal. 

298 


Bill Acquires a Cook 

^ ^ And the maid and the nurse — are they down 
there, too? ” 

Oh, no. They’re canned. And that reminds 
me. Those are peach preserves in that jar.” 

Bill lifted his head a trifle, so that he could send 
her a sidelong glance. What, in heaven’s name, 
had brought her here, in the dead of winter? 
Wanting him to go back with her, probably. 
Wanted to dodge the gossiping. But he would not 
ask her. She was here; let her tell her object in 
coming. 

I don’t suppose you’ve heard any news 
lately,” Doris remarked, when Bill had declined 
every dish of food on the table, and was merely 
pretending to drink his coffee. I heard it just 
as I was leaving the ranch. Walter and John and 
another man, and that A1 Freeman — the one I 
shot out of here that time, you know — all had 
a terrible fight in this other man’s office, in Gold¬ 
field. About money, they said. Walter and the 
other man were shot, and the other two are in. 
jail. They think Walter won’t live. I Avas 
thinking. Bill, maybe you ought to go and see 
him. He — they cheated you somehow, didn’t 
they? Walter might tell, if you went to him and 
asked about it. I think he’d tell, to get even with 
John.” 

What’s the use? ” Bill pushed back his chair. 

299 


The Parowan Bonanza 

‘‘ What’s the use of anything? Doris, did you 
make the ride over here to tell me that? ’’ 

Doris also was making a pretense of eating. 
She pushed back her plate and began rolling a bit 
of bread under her forefinger, patting it carefully 
into a flat little cake. Bill noticed then that she 
was wearing no rings, save her wedding ring and 
one with a Parowan nugget, — the first one he 
found in the claim. 

<< Why, no. I just happened to think of that. 
No. What I really came for — well I really came 
for, was — well, I thought there was no sense in 
spending money living at a hotel when I have 
a wonderful home here, and — when the mine 
needs the money. I don’t know whether you 
need any of mine, but I wish you’d take it and 
use it. Bill. I — it’s a darned shame for you to be 
working like — like a Bohunk! ” 

Bill was studying her fixedly. 

■ I was working hke a Bohunk when I found 
the mine in the first place,” he said. ‘‘ I guess 
there’s nothing the matter with my back. It can 
stand up under a little more work. I haven’t,” 
he said deliberately, found the ore yet. I may 
never find it. So you may need your money.” 

Our money,” corrected Doris, under her 
breath. Well, I suppose I can’t get around it 
— you’re the stubbornest mule of a man I ever 

300 


Bill Acquires a Cook 

saw in my life! I really came to say I Ve been a 
beast. I don’t see wby,” she cried indignantly, 
‘‘ a man can get rich and make a darned fool of 
himself, and it’s all right. Bnt if a woman goes 
on a perfectly respectable society spree, it — it’s 
something awful! ” Her voice broke. If it 
had been you — if you’d got drunk and gambled 
and — raised Cain generally, don’t — don’t you 
suppose I’d have overlooked it when you — so- 
sobered up and—wanted to get a fresh start? ” 
Bill stared at her. 

What I really came over for,” she said, 
sniffling a little, was to be w-with you. If you 
can s-stand it like this, I — can’t. I just about 
went crazy j seeing other women with their hus¬ 
bands and — being around those darned hotels 
alone, and you here working like a dog — I 
couldnH sta-and it! ” 

‘‘You poor little kid! ” BiU whispered against 
her hair. “ You poor little kid! ” He laughed 
shakily, holding her close. “ Sobered up with an 
awful head on her. I’ll bet! ” 

That was not what he expected to say, but Bill 
was never much of a hand to express his deeper 
emotions. 

“ Anyway, I can cook for you and Tommy, I 
hope! ” Doris was, as usual, withering in her 

301 


The Parowan Bonanza 

sarcasm. If you^re determined to grab along 
like this, all right. I^m game for it. I never liked 
cooking — much. But I can do it. We can move 
up to the house *- 

Not till weVe struck the ore. Call me stub¬ 
born if you want to — I can’t help it. I found 
the ore in the first place, and I’ll find it again. 
Without touching a dollar of your money. I 
can’t afford to keep up that big house. This is 
about my limit. ’ ’ 

Doris eyed the limited space, chewing her lip 
meditatively. 

It isn’t much of a place to bring baby,” she 
said. ‘ ‘ She’d have her little hands full of slivers, 
the first thing, off these rough boards. And I 
can’t see the sense. Bill-dear. Not when there’s 
the kitchen up there, and the breakfast room and 
maid’s room that could be shut off from the rest 
of the house. I’d like to know how it’s ,going to 
cost more to live there. Do you think you boys 
would eat more in that kitchen than you do here ! ’ ’ 

‘‘Aw, hell! Come on, be a shport! ” cried 
Luella into the silence, evidently believing that 
the two were playing pinochle. 

The winter passed quickly, after that. Bill 
wondered sometimes if there hadn’t been some 
mistake about that honeymoon trip to California. 

302 



Bill Acquires a Cook 

This was the kind of honeymoon he had dreamed 
of, when he dared to dream of so remote a bliss. 
Baby Mary was just a lump of sweetness thrown 
in for good measure; by the way, you should 
have seen how she took to mining. On warm 
days, Doris and the baby would go up to the mine, 
little Mary smiling back over her daddy’s 
shoulder until they overtook Tommy and the 
burros, when she would insist upon riding burro- 
back. 

Sometimes she had her way, if one of the bur¬ 
ros on shift chanced to be Wise One. Luella, of 
course, would go along, language and all. They 
would have a hot lunch, cooked over the camp 
fire by Doris, who wore khaki, these days, and 
high-laced boots, and did not look in the least like 
a lady millionaire. Lady millionaires do not as 
a rule drive two burros round and round in a 
circle, hoisting muck from a mine. 

They were up there — baby Mary trying her 
little best to lift a single-jack, and wrinkling her 
nose at Doris, who was busy with the burros — 
one morning in April. Bill and Tommy were 
both below, examining the effect of their ^ ^ shots ’ ’ 
of the evening before. Parowan was talkin’ to 
’em louder ’n’ the noon whistle,” according to 
Tommy, and when Doris received the hoisting 
signal, she answered it and then picked up a 

303 


The Parowan Bonanza 

double handful of rocks, with which to pelt the 
two burros whom nobody loved. Bill and Tommy 
had not been down underground longer than five 
minutes. Boris put an unexpected sharpness into 
her tone. The burros broke into a trot, — prov¬ 
ing that the load was not muck. 

Bill heaved himseK out of the bucket, his eyes 
dancing. 

Ever see anything like that before? he 
asked triumphantly, holding out a piece of rock 
the size of his fist. 

i, Why — it’s gold, isn’t it?” The same old 
thrill hushed her voice as she took the quartz in 
her hand. Tiny, yellow specks showed here and 
there, — Parowan gold. 

‘‘ Busted right into it! ” crowed Bill. ‘‘I told 
you last night I was willing to bet we’d get a 
change this morning. There she is, old girl. 
Whole face of the tunnel in quartz — gold ore or 
I’m a Chinaman. It won’t be so rich as the sur¬ 
face ore was, but it’ll be a dam sight more per¬ 
manent. We trailed her close to a hundred feet 
—but we sure overhauled her at last! ’ ’ 

Oh, Bill-dear, isn’t it simply great! Well, 

what are you going to do now? Organize-” 

Not on your life. The crooks aren’t all dead 
and in jail — not by any means! I ’ll borrow some 

304 



Bill Acquires- a Cook 

money from my wife and put in a crew of men 
here and go to mining! ’ ’ 

I suppose/’ said Doris, you wouldn’t con¬ 
sider selling an interest in the mine — to your 
wife? You couldn’t borrow what’s yours, you 
great, big silly! ” 

Bill gave the ore to baby Mary, who tried 
harder than ever to lift the single-jack so that 
she could smash it down on the rock. His eyes 
strayed down the hill to the empty town, with the 
two-story cement bank standing up high above 
the wooden buildings around it. And the 0 ’Hara 
House with staring, empty windows and no pen¬ 
nant at all. 

The town’ll come back,” he said, squatting 
on his haunches beside Doris and beginning to 
plan and dream again. I almost wish it 
wouldn’t. This has been a great winter, honey. 
But it’s bound to come back. I don’t know what 
the darned railroad will do about it,” he grinned. 
<< We’ve swiped most of their ties! ” 

That’s a hell of a note, ain’t it! ” cried 
Luella, and began crawling, beak and claws, up 
Bill’s back. 


THE END 


305 



NOVELS BY B. M. BOTOR 


GOOD INDIAN 

A story named for its half-breed hero, who dominates this 
stirring Western romance. 

“There is excitement and action on every page ... A somewhat 
unusual love story runs through the book.”— The Boston Transariyt. 

LONESOME LAND 

A story of modern Montana, giving a wholly different phase of 
life among the ranches. 

“Montana described as it really is, is the ‘lonesome land' of this 
new Bower story. A prairie fire and the death of the worthless 
husband are especially well handled.”— A, L. A. Booklist. 

THE RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 

A tale of Idaho ranch life, with a bewitching heroine. 

' “A ringing tale full of exhilarating cowboy atmosphere, abun¬ 
dantly and absorbingly illustrating the outstanding feature of that 
alluring ranch life that is fast vanishing.”— The Chicago Tribune. 

THE FLYING U’S LAST STAND 

What happened when a company of school teachers and 
farmers encamped on the grounds of the Flying U Ranch. 

“How the ranchmen saved their grazing grounds, is told by 
the novelist with breezy humor and an overflow of fanciful 
incident.”— The Philadelphia North American. 

THE PAROWAN BONANZA 

This tale of the Nevada gold fields, which is the best book the 
author has written since “Cow-Country,” tells how the Parowan 
Bonanza boom was started and how it worked out. It is related 
in typical B. M. Bower style, with dramatic vividness, with 
accurate knowledge of types and their settings, and with refresh¬ 
ing, wholesome humor. 


Boston LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY Publishers 




NOVELS BY B. M. BOWER 


THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX 

A Flying U story in which the Happy Family get mixed up 
in a robbery faked for film purposes. 

“Altogether a rattling story, that is better in conception and ex¬ 
pression than the conventional thriller on account of its touches of 
real humanity in characterization."— The Philadelphia Public 
Ledger, 

STARR, OF THE DESERT 

A story of mystery, love and adventure, which has a Mexi¬ 
can revolt as its main theme. 

“The tale is well written ... A book worth the reading which 
it is sure to get from every one who begins it." — The New York 
Tribune, 

CABIN FEVER 

How Bud Moore and his wife, Marie, fared through their 
attack of “cabin fever" is the theme of this B. M. Bower story. 

“It is breezy and wholesome, with a quiet humor . . . Plenty 
of action is evident, while the sentimental side of the story is 
thoroughly human and altogether delightful ."—The Boston 
Transcript, 

SKYRIDER 

A cowboy who becomes an aviator is the hero of this new story 
of Western ranch life. 

“An engrossing ranch story with a new note of interest woven 
into its breezy texture ."—The Philadelphia Public Ledger, 

RIM O’ THE WORLD 

An engrossing tale of a ranch-feud between “gun-fighters" in 
Idaho. 

“The author has filled the story with abundant happenings, 
and the reader of this class of story will find many a thrill in its 
pages ."—The Philadelphia Pvhlic Ledger. 


Boston LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY PnbUshers 




NOVELS BY B. M. BOWER 


THE QUIRT 

A Story of ranch life in Idaho, with an abundance of action, 
adventure and romance. 

“Like all the Bower novels, ‘The Quirt’ rings true. Lovers of 
Western Stories have long voted Bower a place in the front rank 
of those who tell of ranch-life, bad men, range wars and rough 
riding.”— The Boston Herald. 

COW-COUNTRY 

This story of Bud Birnie will appeal to all lovers of tales of 
the real West. 

“A live, well-told Western romance which bears above all else 
the impress of truth in its descriptions of both persons and 
country.”— The New York Times. 

CASEY RYAN 

Lovers of stories of the real West will enjoy this humorous tale. 

“This is one of the cleverest and most amusing of all the many 
books that have come from B. M. Bower’s pen. . . . It is a 
rollicking story, full of mirth and laughter from beginning to end.” 
—The New York Times. 

THE TRAIL OF THE WHITE MULE 

Another Casey Ryan story in which Casey is funnier than ever. 

“The author produces in Casey Ryan a fictional creation, a 
unique character that is a worth while addition to our gallery of 
Western portraits in fiction.”— The New York Times. 

THE VOICE AT JOHNNYWATER 

“It is a crackerjack of a story, in B. M. Bower’s best style, 
the sort of story that you have to read in one evening, so absorbing 
is it.”— The St. Louis Globe-Democrat. 


Boston LITTLE, BROWN & COMPANY Publishers 




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